Mine to Hold
by TeaPrincess
Summary: Michaela & Sully are best friends. Should the line of friendship ever be crossed or would the consequences necessarily be disastrous? AW story inspired by the show :)
1. Chapter 1

_**Hello everyone….some of you may remember me from many moons ago when I was posting as TweetyPie. Unfortunately, my account has been deleted so I have recreated myself!**_

 _ **This is my new story! I hope you enjoy it.**_

 _ **Colorado Springs:**_

"Mike, come on! We're going to be late!" he yelled up the stairs, before running a hand through his dark, wavy hair. The answering thunder of footsteps made him smile and he waited impatiently for her to appear. She had been up for an hour reading but only when he'd snatched the book out of her hands ten minutes ago and fairly shoved her into the bathroom, had she finally agreed to get dressed for school.

"Oh my god," he groaned, as she stumbled down the stairs, her backpack thudding dully against each step, "your first day at a new school and you look like you've been dragged backwards through a hedge."

"It doesn't look that bad Dad," she retorted, flinging her bag onto the floor and hoisting herself into the chair at the kitchen counter.

"Got a band?" he queried as he retrieved the brush he always kept by the fridge for just such emergencies and started dragging it through the unruly mop now bent over a bowl of very soggy cereal.

"Om ma hamd," came the reply as a slim wrist rose upwards, waving a dark green bobble with half a frog's head on it.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to wear hair bands on your wrist?" he continued disapprovingly as he yanked off the band and proceeded to tie his daughter's long hair into a tidy pony tail, "especially ones with disembodied amphibians on them."

A strangled giggle followed by an audible swallow indicated that breakfast was officially over and grabbing the yellow lunch bag off the counter with one hand, he deftly swept his daughter from her seat to the floor.

"Ok let's get outta here," he said, snatching his jacket off the banister and hurtling towards the front door.

"Damn it," he suddenly cried out, halting mid way across the narrow hallway, "car keys!"

"I got 'em" came a cry from the front yard and with a sigh of relief, he saw her struggling into the front seat of the jeep.

"Back seat Michaela," he called out and as the habitual groan reached his ears, he couldn't help the grin that spread over his face. Turning just in time to see her sneaker clad feet disappear over the passenger head rest, he took a deep breath and slammed the front door shut behind him.

As the bell rang signalling the start of lunch, she released the breath she hadn't realised she had been holding and shoving her pencil case back into her bag, she rose and followed the herd of students towards the cafeteria. She was desperate to escape the stares that had followed her for the best part of the morning and the book she had smuggled to school artfully concealed within her maths book was a sure way to distract herself for a while. Spotting a table with only one other occupant in the corner of the crowded room, she hastened towards it and sat down, deliberately leaving a good number of seats between her and the other student. Pulling out her lunch bag, she couldn't control the rumble that ripped through her stomach. Things had been rushed this morning so the best she could hope for was peanut butter and jelly; even this however, would kill the hunger till she got out of school. Smiling as she contemplated bribing her dad into ordering pizza for dinner as compensation, she pulled it open.

She had always prided herself on being a stoic character, not often prone to what she termed "girly tears." But her intense hunger coupled with the additional stress of the morning had taken its toll on her. Before she could stop them, tears were falling heavy and fast into the empty bag that usually held her sandwiches.

"Hey," said a low voice by her elbow.

"Hi," she replied, hastily wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her knitted jumper before turning towards the voice; even with her slightly blurry vision, she immediately recognised the boy from the other end of the table.

"You forget your lunch?" he asked, nodding towards the empty lunch bag.

"I guess my dad forgot to pack me something," she explained, the tears welling up again at the mere thought of surviving the rest of the day on a carton of pineapple juice.

"Well, you can share my lunch," offered the boy with a smile, brushing his long hair impatiently out of his face, "you like chicken?"

"Sure, but what about you?" she queried, eyeing the neatly cut sandwiches with interest.

"I got plenty," he replied, grinning as he followed her gaze, "help yourself."

"I'm Sully by the way," he added, as she grabbed a quarter and bit in hungrily.

"Yeh, Sully the freak!" interjected a jeering voice. A trio of clearly older and rough looking boys had gathered unnoticed before the table and had obviously overheard the conversation that had passed between the two younger students. Before he could react, the ring leader, a stocky youth with wavy brown hair, had lobbed an empty crisp packet at Sully's head and howling with laughter as it made contact with his aim, he led his group swiftly out into the hall.

"Ignore them," he muttered, his hands clenching into tight fists on the table, "they're just a bunch of jerks."

"I know," came the unexpected response, "apparently I'm a freak too cos my eyes are different colours."

Sully turned to see said eyes roll dramatically before his companion continued.

"My dad's a doctor and he explained the whole thing to me. It's called heterochromia and he said I'm actually really lucky cos it's really, really rare."

"Wow," breathed Sully, still examining the different coloured eyes before him, "you sure know a lot about science."

"I love it," she explained, "I want to be a doctor too when I grow up, just like him."

"I'm Michaela," she added.

"Isn't that a boy's name?" queried Sully, his brow furrowing slightly.

"My mom thought I was going to be a boy," giggled Michaela, stabbing the straw into her carton of juice, "and she had the name picked out already. So when I was born, my dad just added the A on to make things easier."

Sully laughed briefly at that before continuing, "How comes you started school late?"

"I just moved here from Boston. My dad got transferred out here and I wanted to come with him."

"Boston, wow," exclaimed Sully.

"I hate it there," replied Michaela with a shrug, "I like it better here with my dad. We get to eat pizza outta the box and watch TV til really late."

"Hey," she added after a moments pause, "you should come over some time after school. My dad could make us pancakes. He definitely owes you one for saving me from starvation."

"Ok sure," agreed Sully with a grin, just as the bell rang shrilly.

"I got it," said Michaela, grabbing both lunch bags and handing him his before shoving her own back into her backpack.

"Come on," urged Sully and pushing her playfully in front of him, the two pelted towards the cafeteria door.

"Mike, you gunna eat that?" he queried, eyeing the last piece of now stone cold pizza speculatively.

"I'm thinking about it," replied Michaela, drawing her blanket covered knees up towards her chest. The two of them were squished together on the couch, sharing the old tartan throw that had been purchased when she was born and was, despite the numerous holes and suspicious stains, just warm enough to ward off the chill that inevitably accompanied autumn in Colorado.

"I'll play you for it, _Miss_ Quinn," he suggested, a sly smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"You're on, _Dr_ Quinn," she instantly retorted, her eyes lighting up as she shifted to face her opponent.

"Ladies first," he said with a laugh.

"Ok," began Michaela, her brow furrowing in concentration, "longest river in the world?"

"Losing your touch are we Mike," he teased, "that was almost ridiculously simple….the Nile."

Feigning horror as she blithely stuck out her tongue, he chuckled before continuing, "Number of ounces in a pound?"

"You are so stuck in the dark ages Dad," replied Michaela, rolling her eyes before answering, "Sixteen."

"Fastest land mammal?" she shot back almost instantly, fixing him with a determined gaze.

"Cheetah," he replied easily, a wicked gleam creeping into his eyes as he posed his winning question.

"Number of lumbar vertebrae?"

"Hey, that's cheating!" exclaimed Michaela, folding her arms in indignation.

"Says who?" he chortled, reaching out to claim his prize from the coffee table.

"Five."

Turning around in sheer astonishment, he gaped at his daughter, the piece of pizza wilting in his hand. Michaela raised one eyebrow, trying to maintain a superior, mildly amused expression but before long the giggles broke free from her control.

"You asked me that last week," she choked out between guffaws.

"And I'll take that," she added, whipping the trophy from her father's slack fingers and swiftly demolishing it.

Visibly relaxing, he pulled his daughter into the warm circle of his embrace and lovingly kissed the top of her head. Her quick mind and charming wit never ceased to amaze him. For several minutes, they sat contentedly, her head resting in its customary position against his chest. The silence was not oppressive; their natures were too alike for that. In fact, it proved quite calming and after a few moments, he felt brave enough to tackle the subject he had been postponing bringing up all day.

"I spoke to your mom today," he began quietly.

She instantly stiffened in his embrace and he rubbed her arms reassuringly.

"She just wants to know how you're doing, what your new school is like."

When the small body in his arms failed to volunteer a response, he sighed before adding, "She's worried about you."

"No she isn't," interjected Michaela suddenly, a bitter undertone to her voice, "she never liked me as much as Marjorie. I was never pretty enough, or smart enough. I was always getting into trouble. A big embarrassment in front of all her friends."

"Michaela," he interrupted severely, turning her around so that he could meet her narrowed eyes, "stop being so ridiculous. She is your mother and she loves you, she always has. The only reason she let you come here with me in the first place is because she wants you to be happy, and she could see Boston didn't agree with you. So give her a chance ok?"

"And besides," he continued, as the eyes before him fell to examining a large hole in the blanket, "the Christmas party when you decided to give the dog a haircut and parade him around the living room in front of all my colleagues was pretty embarrassing and as I recall, I yelled at you much more that evening than your mom did."

"That was brilliant," giggled Michaela, her eyes sparkling at the memory before conceding, "I'll send her an email before bed, I promise."

"Make that tomorrow," he corrected, glancing at the clock, "cos its way past your bedtime."

"Fine," sighed Michaela, knowing argument was futile. Her dad might be open to discussion on almost every other topic, but he was indomitable when it came to the merits of seven hours of sleep.

"Make sure you brush those teeth really well," he said solemnly to her retreating back, "I wouldn't want the vampires to be denied their snack tonight just cos you decided to pick the garlic dip over the sour cream."

"Sure thing Dad," laughed Michaela, running up the stairs two at a time, "night!"

It was almost an hour later when he finally rose stiffly from his seat and running a hand tiredly across his face, trudged slowly across the hall and up the stairs. A light gleamed on the landing and rolling his eyes in perfect imitation of his daughter, he headed towards her room. Easing the door open, he bit back a laugh at the sight before him. She was fast asleep, curled up on her side as was her habit. One hand clutched the blue duvet securely under her chin whilst the other rested on the spine of the book she had clearly fallen asleep reading. The light from the bedside lamp burned against the crimson cover, illuminating the title in the darkness.

Bram Stoker's "Dracula".


	2. Chapter 2

"Dr Quinn speaking," stated Joseph in as professional a manner as he could around a mouthful of sandwich.

"Joseph, it's Elizabeth" came the unexpected response. He swallowed noisily and immediately dropped his lunch back onto the napkin that he'd substituted for a plate.

"What's going on?" he asked warily, leaning back in his chair, "I thought you were going to call tonight and speak to Michaela then."

"I was," replied Elizabeth in a voice of forced calm, "but I'm worried. I needed to talk to you first."

"I promise I'm keeping her fruit and vegetable intake as high as her junk food intake," he offered lightly, "despite what she might have told you."

"This is not about food Joseph, this is serious," retorted Elizabeth acidly.

Instantly recognising the anxiety in her voice, his brow furrowed in consternation.

"Ok, shoot," he offered solemnly.

"What do you know about this Sully kid?"

The question caught him off guard and the surprise was mirrored in his tone as he framed his response.

"Only what Michaela's told me," he began, "his mom's single, works two jobs. He spends a lot of time with the Cooper kids when she's not around. You remember Charlotte Cooper, she was..."

"Of course I remember," interrupted Elizabeth in an irritated manner, "what else? What's the boy himself like?"

Still at a loss as to where this conversation was leading, Joseph ran a hand through his already ruffled hair before responding blithely, "Well I've never met him, but Michaela seems to really like him and you know how picky she is. She was so excited when she got home on her first day, seems like the two of them really hit it off."

"Elizabeth?" he called nervously, when a deathly silence met his comments, "you still there?"

"Joseph," breathed Elizabeth, an unfamiliar tremor audible in her voice, "I think it's time you had a talk with her. The talk."

When he failed to respond, she sighed audibly before continuing, "I know you don't want to and but she's never had any male friends before and I don't want her running around with some boy completely unawares."

"Well," began Joseph, clearing his throat uncomfortably, "I kind of, sort of, already told her."

"You WHAT?" yelled Elizabeth and despite the hundreds of miles between them, he visibly cringed away from her wrath.

"Well it's not like I planned it or anything," he argued feebly, "she just came home and was so excited to have a boy as a best friend. And she kept going on about how different boys are to girls and then the next thing I knew, she had me backed into a corner. You know how she gets when she wants something and well, I panicked.

"I'm sorry," he offered contritely into the silence that still managed to reflect the waves of disapproval he felt emanating from all the way across the country, "For what it's worth, she knew most of the stuff already and she almost had a heart attack when I suggested the idea of her having a boyfriend."

"Well, that was easier than I thought it was going to be," said Elizabeth briskly after a few torturously long moments, "at least she knows."

"I'll take care of her Lizzie," vowed Joseph, the smile creeping back into his voice now that her ire had apparently dissipated, "I won't let anything happen to her."

"I know," she sighed before adding wickedly, "I only wish I'd been there to see you fudge your way through that conversation."

"How disappointed you must be," replied Joseph dryly, "I'll tell Michaela you'll call her later."

"Thanks," replied Elizabeth, suppressing a laugh, "Oh and Joseph, for the record, pizza with extra tomato sauce doesn't constitute adequate vegetable intake."

* * *

 _ **November**_

The weeks sped by and November arrived, bringing with it an icy snap that turned the roads and paths into a treacherous test of co 'ordination and balance. Despite the warm jumper she had pulled on over her turtle neck, Michaela shivered and turned to glance at the empty space beside her. Since that fateful lunchtime in the cafeteria, she had been pleasantly surprised to learn that Sully was in all of her classes. Choosing to frequent an inconspicuous seat at the back of the classroom, her shy, sweeping gaze on her first morning had missed him entirely. Yet now they were almost inseparable, favouring a pair of seats on the far right that were near enough to the front for Michaela to be able to ask her usual barrage of questions but close enough to the wall for whenever Sully felt inclined to simply melt into it. Michaela was now also a permanent fixture at Sully's lunch table and though Mr Meathead and his Motley Crew, as Michaela had laughingly dubbed the rowdy group of eighth graders, continued to torment them, she found that with Sully beside her, the jeers didn't seem to meet their mark. In fact, they became a source of amusement and welded the bond of friendship even more solidly between the two of them.

Thus as Mr Harris walked into the classroom and the seat beside her remained empty, she couldn't help feeling concerned. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out some extra paper, determined to make detailed notes for him, just in case. However, just as she was rooting through her pencil case for a pen, he appeared in the doorway. Muttering an apology to the teacher, he wound his way quickly through the sea of desks and took his place beside her.

"Hey" she whispered, as Mr Harris began writing up the maths problems they had been assigned to finish for homework, "how comes you're late?"

Sully merely shook his head and pulled a battered notebook out of his bag. Rifling frantically through it, he finally found the page where he had scrawled the problems down yesterday. Michaela inhaled sharply when she realised that the space he had dutifully left underneath for the answers was still blank. Sully however, ignored her and grabbing a pencil, quickly began working out the answers.

"Sully, what gives?" tried Michaela again, "you haven't done your homework. That's not like you. And you look terrible. Are you sick?"

Without realising it, her voice had risen sufficiently in volume with the last statement to attract the teacher's attention and as he turned and fixed his gaze on the two students in the corner, she groaned quietly.

"Mr Sully," called Mr Harris, "you seem to have a lot to say on the matter. What was your answer?"

Sully cringed, his pencil dropping onto the page with his half worked out problem with a light thud.

"25" murmured Michaela, tilting her head towards him yet taking care to move her lips as little as possible.

"Thanks," offered Sully in a low voice, as the teacher moved on to his next victim.

"Sure," breathed Michaela as she watched him continue to work out the problems, her brow furrowed in confusion.

As the bell rang, Michaela instantly headed towards the classroom door, Sully trailing slowly behind her. Glancing around the hallway packed full of jostling students, she made a quick decision.

"Michaela," queried Sully, pausing where he stood and gesturing to the right, "where are you going? The science lab is that way."

"Come on," she hissed, grabbing his hand, "follow me."

"Where are we going?" he asked, lengthening his stride to keep pace with her rapid steps.

"You'll see," she replied mysteriously, a sly grin pulling at her lips.

Still holding tight to Sully's hand, she fairly dragged him around the side of the gym towards the deserted playing fields. Hidden behind a row of large, evergreen bushes, was a small patch of grass and it was here that she deposited her school bag before dropping down to sit cross legged on the ground. Sully watched in amazement as she hastily buttoned her thick, winter coat and pulled on her gloves before knotting her hands in her lap and fixing him with a stern gaze.

"Ok Sully, spill, what's going on?"

"We're going to be late for class," he stated uncertainly, continuing to stand before her.

"We're not going to class," clarified Michaela briskly, "now sit down and talk."

Sensing her determination, he moved silently to sit beside her, drawing his legs up to his chest and resting his chin on his knees.

"My dad called last night," offered Sully finally into the silence that had fallen between them and remained unbroken for several minutes, "Mom was making dinner when he rang so she asked me to get it."

"Wow," said Michaela, monitoring his face to judge his reaction, "what did he say?"

"That he's passing through town and wants to see me," replied Sully, a bitter edge to his voice.

"What did you say?" she asked curiously, twisting slightly towards him.

"Nothing," he retorted angrily, "I slammed the phone down and told Mom it was a wrong number."

"But don't you want to see your dad?" queried Michaela timidly.

"No," replied Sully viciously, "the only time he ever called was to try and get more money from my mom. He doesn't care about me."

"I'm sorry," breathed Michaela, linking her arm carefully through his, "but you know, maybe he's changed."

"And maybe he hasn't," added Sully with a scowl.

"Well, you won't know unless you talk to him," reasoned Michaela, "and I think you should tell your mom, she'd want to know."

"She'll just get upset," argued Sully, "she hates talking about him."

"She'll be more upset if you don't tell her," replied Michaela softly.

He had no response to that: he knew as well as she how much his mother cared about him, how desperately she had worked to get him settled away from his father and how she would do just about anything, from making his Halloween costume to scrounging up money to pay for his extra music lessons, to make him happy.

"I can't believe you cut class for me," he said after a moment's silence, a teasing smile pulling at his lips.

"You're my best friend Sully," replied Michaela simply with a shrug, as though that settled the matter.

"So you wanna head back yet?"

"Can't we stay here just a little while longer?" asked Sully with a suddenly wicked grin, "My mom's gunna kill me for cutting class so I wanna make the most of it."

"Sure," giggled Michaela, rooting in her bag and pulling out her lunch bag, "I've got supplies."

* * *

"So I got a call from your principal today," began Joseph, catching his daughter's gaze in the rear view mirror, "he said you cut some classes today."

Bearing a strong resemblance to a tortoise suddenly facing grave danger, Michaela flinched and shrunk down into her coat, averting her eyes to the window. Joseph smiled at the comparison before continuing in a light tone, "So did you make it out of the school gates? I mean there's no point in cutting if you don't even get outside the official boundary."

"You're not mad?" exclaimed Michaela in a somewhat reverent tone and turning in spite of herself to gaze at her father in awe.

"No," replied Joseph, twisting around in his seat to grin at her expression, "you've never cut class before so I figured you must have had a good reason.

"So long as you don't make a habit of it," he added sternly, though the humour was still audible in his voice.

"Thanks Dad," breathed Michaela, visibly relaxing again, "you're the best."

"So just out of curiosity, what did you get up to?" queried Joseph, his habitual smile lightening his features, "anything fun?"

"Sully was upset about something," replied Michaela honestly, "and I wanted to make sure he was ok."

"You are an amazing, young woman Michaela Quinn," stated Joseph proudly before adding with a cheeky wink, "You definitely take after your dad."

"I'll tell Mom that when I email her tonight," teased Michaela, as the car pulled into the driveway.

"What and leave me undefended against her wrath?" laughed Joseph as he clambered out of the car and yanked his daughter lovingly out of the backseat, "even you don't have the heart for that, Dr Quinn."


	3. Chapter 3

**DECEMBER**

Christmas break finally arrived for Michaela and with it a sudden surge of work for Joseph so that it was only during his lunch hour on Christmas Eve that he finally made it to the supermarket to buy the standard turkey and trimmings for Christmas dinner. He and Michaela had agreed to keep the celebration small but given that they had been too busy to celebrate Thanksgiving, it was their first real holiday on their own and he wanted to make it extra special. Thus he was to be found in the frozen food aisle debating the attributes of two particularly grim looking birds when his cell phone rang.

"Hi Dad," began Michaela excitedly, cutting off the professional spiel he always ran through just in case it was a patient on the line.

"Mrs Cooper rang. She's asked Sully and his mom over for Christmas dinner and wants to know if we can go too. Can we Dad, please?"

"Well, I dunno," mumbled Joseph uncertainly, his brow furrowing, "Are you sure she doesn't mind?"

"Yep," assured Michaela with a giggle, "she said she's making enough food to feed an army so if we're coming, it would be a good idea to skip breakfast."

Joseph glanced down at the complicated diagram on the front of the packaging in his hand that seemed to be demonstrating the right way to stuff said birds, and made a quick decision.

"Ok," he agreed, "ring her back and tell her we'll be there. I'm in the supermarket so I'll get some wine for the table."

"Don't forget the crackers," added Michaela, "and another packet of those chocolate Santas for the tree. Some of them got a bit lost in the decorating process."

"Stop eating the decorations, Mike," laughed Joseph, "at least not til I get home. I want to have fair pickings."

"Ok, Ok," sighed Michaela and he could almost hear her eyes rolling.

"And don't be a pain for Mrs Baker," he added, chucking the miserable turkeys back into the freezer, "I'll be home at six and I don't want any more complaints about how she needs to double her angina medication every time she babysits you."

"Uh huh," said Michaela, her tone suspiciously distracted, "See you later."

* * *

 **FEBRUARY**

Christmas day and the New Year past uneventfully enough for the Quinn family and a new occasion appeared on the horizon: Michaela's thirteenth birthday. Joseph had been wracking his brains for a great way to celebrate his daughter's special day and after a whole week of stealthily scouring the internet for ideas, moping around when said search proved unfruitful and even resorting to picking Sully's brain, he had finally decided to just come out and ask her what she wanted to do. It was with this aim in mind that he drove carefully along the snow filled roads towards the Cooper residence.

Since the Christmas holidays, Michaela had persuaded him to let Mrs Cooper watch her after school, namely because Sully went there most days after school til his mum finished work and because she couldn't bear the boredom of Mrs Baker's company. Joseph had eventually agreed under the pretence that Mrs Cooper was infinitely cheaper than her competition but in all honesty, he wasn't sure Mrs Baker's heart could tolerate the exuberant nature of his daughter for much longer.

The lights were on and the aroma of dinner cooking wafted through the front door which had opened as soon as he had turned off the ignition.

"Hey, Brian," he said, bending down to be on eye level with the blond haired toddler, "does your mum know you can open the door like that?"

"Brian!" came a furious cry from the kitchen and in an instant, Charlotte Cooper had appeared in the hallway behind them.

"Guess not," chuckled Joseph as Charlotte scooped up her son and gently swatted his rear end exclaiming, "How many times have I told you not to open the door!"

"Sorry Joseph," she added, turning towards him as her fury began to ebb away, "Michaela's out in the garage with the boys. Come on in, I'll go get her."

This last no longer evoked the expression of great surprise it once had and Joseph swiftly made himself comfortable in a large chair in the front room whilst he waited for Michaela.

Picking her up after her first afternoon with the Coopers though had been a different matter. He had been horrified to learn that his daughter had spent the last two hours in close proximity to potentially dangerous tools, sheets of metal and axle grease, the last of which he knew from experience would be an absolute nightmare to wash out of her clothes. Michaela, however, when she had appeared, her clothes demonstrably free from any trace of viscous fluid, had explained the curious circumstances. Her attempts to befriend Colleen, Charlotte's only daughter who was only a few months younger than she was, had been met with overt hostility. Several besotted glances at Sully over the kitchen table whilst Michaela had been explaining the technicalities of balancing fractions had been enough to trigger her suspicions and a few well phrased questions had confirmed her conclusion: Colleen had a crush on Sully and was desperately jealous of Michaela.

Despite Michaela's continued assurances that she and Sully were best friends and nothing more, Joseph had been concerned about the effect such open rivalry would have on his daughter. He needn't have worried. Michaela viewed the entire subject with great amusement and as she narrated the conversation she had had with an unsuspecting Sully over lunch the following day, complete with a despicably accurate representation of Sully's utterly stunned and slightly bemused expression, he couldn't help joining in her laughter.

Since then Michaela had steered clear of Colleen Cooper, secretly confessing to her father that she wasn't entirely sure she'd able to control the urge to punch her whenever she looked at Sully with such doe-like eyes. She had opted instead to join the boys out in the garage where a large heap of sheets proved to be the perfect spot to read undisturbed whilst Sully chatted away to Colleen's older brother, Matthew, as he continued to painstakingly renovate his latest set of wheels. Though she vowed to Joseph that she'd keep away from all objects pointy and shiny, Michaela couldn't suppress her curious nature for long. Thus one morning when the car had refused to start and Joseph had retreated in doors to call the mechanic, he had been completely gobsmacked to find, on his return, Michaela half buried under the hood of the Jeep, poking at various bits of metal with the air of a professional. In response to her cry of "Try it now," he had rolled his eyes dramatically but when she had persisted in her request, he had decided to humour her and dutifully turned the key. The shock of hearing the sudden growl as the engine restarted had nearly knocked him out and as Michaela had climbed grinning into the back seat, he had merely continued to gape at her until his cell phone rang again: it was the mechanic.

* * *

"So," began Joseph, standing up from the table and grabbing their dinner plates, "what did you want to do for your birthday? I managed to book this Saturday off."

Michaela didn't reply and instead gazed longingly at the last few bites of apple pie hovering five feet away that she suddenly felt she could squeeze in after all. Joseph chuckled and placed her plate back before her.

"Thanks," giggled Michaela, grabbing her spoon again, "it is, by some miracle, really good."

"Hey!" exclaimed Joseph, swotting her with a dish cloth, "I may not be Martha Stewart but I'm definitely way better than your mum!"

"I know," replied Michaela, meeting his gaze cheekily, "I'm still alive."

"Beef casserole," murmured Joseph solemnly and as he caught his daughter's eyes, her expression as she too remembered the disastrous dish was enough to have the two of them rolling around in fits of irrepressible laughter.

"You never said," mused Joseph ten minutes later when they had calmed down enough to start the washing up, "what do you want to do on Saturday?"

"Well," replied Michaela thoughtfully, "there's a new adventure playground opened up about a half hour away. I saw the ad on TV."

"Mike," interjected Joseph, pointing towards the icy window with a soapy knife, "it's freezing outside! You'll get welded to the climbing frame in five minutes flat!"

"It's inside Dad," explained Michaela, rolling her eyes at his dramatics.

"Ok," conceded Joseph, secretly relieved that she hadn't asked for a shopping day at the mall though of course he'd have agreed to that too if it made her happy. It was comforting to know however, that there was a chance he wouldn't be fighting the urge to run and hide the whole day.

"Adventure park it is. So who do you wanna invite?"

Michaela merely shrugged and continued to dry the plate in her hand. Joseph grinned as he read her silent response. Sometimes she was far too easy to please for her own good.

"Well how about I ask Charlotte to bring Brian and Colleen along so I can have some adult company whilst you and Sully run riot" suggested Joseph with a chuckle.

"Plus it'd make me look slightly less pathetic," added Michaela with a small smile, grabbing the clean glass carefully from her father's hands.

"Shoot," replied Joseph with an expression of mock surprise, "you have unwittingly unearthed my master plan."

"I'm nothing if not thorough," retorted Michaela, nudging him playfully. Unfortunately this instantly loosened his grip on the large baking pan he had been scrubbing and as one, father and daughter leapt back with a cry as a shower of soapy suds hurtled towards them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

Saturday morning found a cheerful, babbling quintet squeezing into the Jeep. Colleen, on hearing that it was Michaela's birthday, had refused to join the group. Not even Sully's presence and the promise of ice cream was enough to persuade her to spend the whole day in her rival's presence. The journey to the park was mercifully short and Joseph heaved a great sigh of relief as barely forty minutes later, the highly excitable kids had darted off to hang upside from the huge climbing frame that dominated the central space. Or in Brian's case, to clap excitedly as Michaela made funny faces at him in between flips. Naturally, the two older kids soon got bored of the lower rungs and when Charlotte carried Brian out of harm's way and to the toddlers section, Sully challenged Michaela to a race up to the summit, declaring that the first one on the rope bridge that swung sickeningly several feet above their heads, would have to forfeit their ice cream. Knowing that Michaela wouldn't back out, he barely waited for her response before starting up the rungs at a frenzied pace. Her laughter close at his heels mere moments later confirmed that she was gaining on him and with a sigh he strove to increase the distance between them.

Perhaps having grown up around a doctor had made her more vigilant to the potential hazards around her or perhaps she was simply perfectly positioned to witness the scene play out before her.

"Sully, watch out!" she had cried out, however her warning was a moment too late. The two boys collided and in shock, Sully released his hold on the rung he was clinging to. Stunned, Michaela watched as his body flew the ten or so feet onto the plastic mat that looked about as protective as a slab of concrete from her current height. The sides of the mat rose up about him like water spilling out of a glass, thankfully cushioning most of the impact of his fall yet the momentum knocked his head sideways onto the floor.

"Dad!" shrieked Michaela when she could finally force her limbs to move and scampered down the frame, "Dad! Dad!"

In a moment, her father was beside her and together they assessed the still form before them.

"He fell," stammered Michaela, "hit his head. On the left side I think."

Reaching ever so carefully around his hair, Michaela gently touched his scalp before pulling her hand back. Warmth oozed under her fingertips.

"He's bleeding," she whispered, staring at the crimson patch leaching into the creases of her palm.

"It's Ok, Michaela," began Joseph in a voice of forced calm, "he's breathing and his pulse is strong. Someone call 911."

This last he addressed to the crowd that had inevitably gathered around them, attracted by Michaela's unholy yell.

"I got it," said Charlotte, a step behind Michaela.

"Come on honey," she added, wrapping an arm around the trembling girl, "let your dad take care of him."

"No!" cried Michaela vehemently, shrugging off the touch, "I want to help."

Joseph glanced up at the resolute expression on her face and nodded his assent to Charlotte.

"Mike, I need you to hold his hand for me and talk to him, see if he responds ok?"

"Try not to jostle him," he cautioned, however his warning was unnecessary. With the slightest movement possible, Michaela had slipped her hand under her best friend's and twisted their fingers together in a pale knot.

"You're going to be fine, Sully," she murmured quietly, "we'll take good care of you."

* * *

"Michaela?" murmured Sully, blinking confusedly, "where are we?"

"Sully," Michaela breathed in relief before turning to address someone hidden from his view, "He's awake."

"Hi Sully, I'm Rosie," said an unfamiliar voice and he instantly tried to turn towards the sound.

"Woah, take it easy," cautioned the voice, pressing gently down on his shoulder, "Try not to move, you took quite a fall."

A curly brown head suddenly slid into view and recognising the uniform, Sully's eyes widened.

"We're just about ready to take you to the hospital," continued the EMT with a smile, "the docs will want to check you over."

"My mom," began Sully as he was lifted carefully and placed into the back of the ambulance, "She'll be worried."

"Your friends already called her," answered Rosie, fastening the seat belt around him, "She'll meet us at the hospital."

"Dad," said Michaela, suddenly turning towards her father, "I want to go with Sully."

"Sorry kid," replied Rosie, peering out from behind the ambulance door, "that's not allowed."

Michaela's eyes narrowed and recognising the trademark Quinn glare that always preceded a furious outburst, Joseph quickly interceded.

"Maybe you could make an exception just this once Rosie," he wheedled, pushing Michaela forwards, "She won't be any trouble, I promise, and I'll meet you on the other side."

"Fine," conceded Rosie after a moment, appraising Michaela's determined expression, "Only cos it's you Joseph."

"Let's go," she called out to her colleague as soon as Michaela had jumped the two steps into the ambulance, and with a resonant thud, the doors slammed shut behind them.

"Michaela," whispered Sully into the darkness as the ambulance hurtled through the busy streets towards the hospital, "you ok?"

"You're the one taped to a stretcher," Michaela breathed back, "and you're asking me if I'm ok?"

"You're crying," explained Sully quietly, as Michaela hastily dragged the back of her hand over her cheeks, "and you never cry."

* * *

The hours in the hospital sped by as a blur of unfamiliar noises and smells and when the clock struck ten, Michaela's head finally gave up its struggle and descended onto the woollen blanket of Sully's bed. Given the near ten minutes he'd been unconscious, the doctors had decided to keep Sully in overnight and even after his mom had arrived, frantic with worry, Michaela had refused to leave his side for a minute. She'd even persuaded the nurse to bring her an identical dinner tray so that she and Sully could bemoan the miseries of hospital food together.

When Joseph had popped in a mere half hour later to take her home, she had barely even been able to open her eyes but had allowed herself to be half dragged to the car and then upstairs to bed, her unopened birthday presents lying in a neat pile on the floor beside her.

Sully was due to be released around midday and fully anticipating his daughter's plan to sneak out early and see him, Joseph had set up camp on the couch. His sensitive reflexes, borne from raising twins, had been honed to perfection with the arrival of Michaela and as the latter in her haste forgot to jump the creaky second step, he was instantly awakened.

The scene that followed was not pretty: after multiple rounds of verbal sparring and several resounding choruses of "because I said so," on Joseph's part, Michaela finally stomped off to the kitchen to get some breakfast. Joseph sighed and collapsed back onto his makeshift bed. He hated playing the "Dad" card and with Michaela, he had rarely needed to. However, in this case he knew he was right and he would just have to ride out the inevitable freeze out until her anger dissipated. Sighing deeply, he scrunched up his hair, recalling for the umpteenth time just how much being a parent could sometimes suck.

Not even Sully's groggy phone call mid way through the afternoon to assure Michaela that he was fine, if a little fuzzy headed due to the pain medication, could break the tension between father and daughter. Joseph skirted around the kitchen where Michaela sat doing her homework, desperate for some kind of sign that the ice age was drawing to a close. Yet it was not until they were both curled up on the couch after dinner, watching some mindless documentary, that Michaela showed the first signs of relenting. Perhaps it was the familiarity of their position that finally thawed her out or perhaps her anger had simply run its course. As her head nudged against his shoulder, Joseph held his breath, debating whether to reciprocate or wait til her elbows were out of range of his stomach muscles. A moment later however, Michaela had pulled his arm out from the ragged blanket and draped it around her shoulders, murmuring into his chest, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too," said Joseph, pulling his daughter closer to his side, "I'm sorry I'm making us watch this lame show. Now that you're back, can you please find us something less depressing?"

"Sure thing, Dad," giggled Michaela, swiping the remote from beside him and flicking through the channels before settling on a comedy they both loved. Leaning back, Michaela grinned as his laughter shook his chest, drowning out the soothing thud of his heartbeat.

* * *

"How many stitches did you say you got?"

"Wow, did it hurt when they sewed it up?"

"How did it happen, Sully?"

It had been the same all morning, ever since Sully had arrived at school with the large dressing covering up the fresh stitches on the side of his head. Initially, Sully had been overwhelmed by the attention and had instinctively turned wide eyed to Michaela, querying what it could all mean. Yet by lunchtime, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying being the centre of attention. Curling her lip in disgust as Sully began to recount the events of Saturday for what seemed the hundredth time, Michaela slammed her backpack down on their suddenly crowded lunch table and crossed her arms across her chest.

"It must have hurt lots," interrupted a girl with long blonde hair from their math class, "I think you're really brave, Sully."

Michaela snorted impatiently but her eyes narrowed as a grin threatened to spread across Sully's face.

"I dunno about that," he replied, shuffling his feet slightly, "I was kinda knocked out for a while."

"Cool," came the response from a red haired boy who was gazing reverently at Sully, "was there loads of blood?"

"A little," admitted Sully, a smile pulling at his lips, "good thing I'm not squeamish."

The probing and flattery continued, however Michaela was no longer listening. Slowly she lifted up her right hand and gazed intently at it. Though her clear skin bore no trace of the blood that had darkened it, she suddenly remembered with intense clarity the precise feel of the warm moisture as it seeped against her palm. Her stomach turned and without a word, she turned on her heel and fled the cafeteria. She ended up behind the evergreen bushes again. When Sully finally found her some fifteen minutes later, she was in a fearsome rage.

"I've been looking all over for you," he began, "why did you run off like that?"

"You mean you actually missed me?" replied Michaela acidly, "I didn't think you'd care, what with all the new _friends_ you have now."

"Come on, Michaela," laughed Sully, "you know it's not like that!"

"Could've fooled me," snapped back Michaela.

Sully studied her irate expression for a moment before surmising with a smug grin, "You're jealous."

"I am not!" exclaimed Michaela furiously, "If you want to hang out with such pathetic losers who only like you cos of a few stupid stitches, then that's up to you."

Instead of retaliating, Sully reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, wrapped object.

"I got your birthday present here," he said, holding it out like a peace offering, "if you want it."

Michaela scowled but Sully caught the interest in her eyes and he grinned.

"I dunno whether it's still alive," he chuckled, "I think I might have squashed it when I fell."

"Go on," he urged as she hesitated, "open it."

Biting back her smile, Michaela reached out and eagerly ripped the coloured paper away. She had to choke back a laugh: in her hand was what was once a beautiful ebony horse. However, its head, now severed from its body, was resting next to the finely carven legs, looking forlornly up at the ceiling.

"Oops, I guess I did fall on it," said Sully apologetically.

"I know you always wanted a horse," he explained with a smile, "and then I saw this and thought it would be perfect."

"It is perfect," grinned back Michaela, "Now I get to be a vet for a day and put it back together myself. I love it, thanks."

"So do we get to go and have lunch now?" queried Sully, turning back towards the school buildings, "I'm starving!"

"Sure," laughed Michaela but when she made no move to join him, Sully gazed back in puzzlement.

"I was jealous Sully," admitted Michaela quietly, gently stroking the mane on her new toy horse.

"I know," replied Sully with a sly smile, "but you don't have to be. You'll always be my best friend Michaela."


	5. Chapter 5

**April**

 **Chapter 5:**

The rest of February and March slipped by in an endless stream of rainy days and it wasn't til the first weekend in April that the sun managed to fight through the clouds and cast a watery glow over the town. Michaela, who had been up for hours reading despite the fact that it was a Saturday, fairly bounced down the stairs as soon as the whirring of the coffee machine, an indicator that Joseph was finally up, successfully broke through her concentration.

"Can we go today?" she exclaimed, her socked feet skidding on the wooden floor as she hurtled towards the kitchen counter.

"Good morning to you too," replied Joseph with a wry smile as he poured a healthy portion of coffee into an old, chipped mug.

"Well?" persisted Michaela, raising an eyebrow in expectation.

"Homework first," clarified Joseph, fixing his daughter with an unyielding glance, "and if the two of you are done by lunch, I'll consider it."

Joseph no longer bothered asking if Sully was coming over but simply assumed that he was. Over the last six months, the boy had turned into a permanent fixture in their lives and Joseph had come to learn that any time he wanted to find his daughter, tracking down Sully would inevitably yield results.

"Yes!" exclaimed Michaela, adding in an extra whoop for good measure, before padding good naturedly across to the cupboard and helping herself to some cereal.

"I'm going to take a shower," said Joseph, grabbing the spoon out of his daughter limp grip and shovelling a mouthful of honey loops into his mouth before she could react.

"Be sure to shave extra close today, Dad," retorted Michaela with a scowl as she reclaimed her spoon, "you need all the help you can get and may be it will help make you more aerodynamic."

Joseph merely laughed at her indignant expression and grabbing his coffee, headed upstairs, the theme tune to Scooby Doo blaring behind him.

* * *

Two hours later, Sully was lounging in his chair by the window, absentmindedly playing with a rather weatherworn baseball. His essay about the human digestive system was lying on the table in front of him complete with a diagram that he had coloured in out of sheer boredom whilst he waited for Michaela to finish.

"Are you done yet?" he asked for the hundredth time, casting a mournful glance at the beautiful day just waiting for them beyond the thin pane of glass.

"Hmmm" came the response and Sully rolled his eyes. She had been poring over the anatomy book that Joseph had gifted her with for her birthday for the last half an hour and had only spoken once in the interim. Outraged that the school textbook was full of what she deemed "glaring inaccuracies", she had bestowed upon it a most disdainful look before chucking it under the table and beginning her entire essay anew.

The sound of an approaching engine drew Sully's attention and he twisted around to stare out of the window, his eyes widening as a gleaming black car with tinted windows pulled into the Quinn's driveway. The gentle purr immediately cut out and without turning around, Sully commented, "There's someone here to see you guys."

"Who is it?" asked Michaela distractedly, a frown furrowing her brow as she continued to peruse a lengthy paragraph.

"I dunno," said Sully, "a woman just got out of the car. She looks really smart, with her hair all up in that twisty thing, like a lawyer maybe."

"Mom," whispered Michaela in a stunned voice, now staring out of the window too. Sully's words had broken through her abstraction and the textbook now lay forgotten on her lap.

"And woah, who is _that_?" continued Sully, now appraising a tall, slender young girl with flaming red hair who had just stepped out of the car.

His words however were drowned out by a strangled cry from Michaela, who, as though suddenly regaining the ability to move, had slammed down the textbook and shot out of the room to yank the front door open.

"Mom!" she cried, launching herself into the arms of the elegantly attired woman now standing on the front porch.

"Michaela, honey," replied Elizabeth, returning the hug with an expression of fierce affection, "I missed you."

"I missed you too," laughed Michaela, now dragging her mother into the house, "why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

"Hello Elizabeth," came another voice and both mother and daughter looked up to see Joseph walking sedately down the stairs, a broad grin on his face as he observed the long overdue reunion.

"You knew she was coming," stated Michaela, comprehension finally dawning as she saw the laughter in his eyes, "that's why you kept making excuses all morning. You knew Mom was coming."

Joseph merely chuckled before glancing out of the still open door and frowning slightly.

"What's wrong with Marjorie?" he queried, as his elder daughter, who had but moments ago been chattering away merrily on her cell phone, snapped it shut and stalked away from the car towards the house, an irate expression marring her features.

"Oh it's probably Billy," explained Elizabeth with a wry smile, "they'll have broken up, again."

"She's still going out with that bonehead?" asked Michaela in surprise.

"Billy is _not_ a bonehead, Mike," hissed Marjorie, who had most unfortunately approached close enough to catch this last comment.

"Sure he is," retorted Michaela, "just add a nose ring and I reckon he could pass as living proof of Darwin's theory of evolution."

Marjorie turned to glare daggers at her sister and sensing an imminent fight, Joseph choked back a laugh and stepped forward instead to greet his daughter.

"So what were you doing inside on such a nice day?" began Elizabeth, reaching out to close the front door before slipping an arm easily around Michaela's shoulders, "Don't tell me you're reading?"

"Dad was going to take Sully and I to play baseball but we had to…Sully!"

She suddenly broke off midsentence and slapping her palm to her forehead, dashed out of her mother's embrace back into the small living room. She was back a mere moment later, fairly dragging a very embarrassed Sully along in her wake.

"Mom, this is Sully."

She didn't need to explain further: the lengthy emails she sent her mother on a daily basis were peppered with stories of her antics with Sully. This meeting was a mere formality that allowed Elizabeth to put a face to the very familiar name.

"Hello, Sully," said Elizabeth in a would be casual voice but with a distinctly knowing gleam in her eye, "it's nice to finally meet you."

"Uh, thanks," replied Sully, casting a furtive glance at the somewhat intimidating figure in front of him before dropping his gaze to his sneakers.

Smiling at Sully's obvious discomfort, Elizabeth led the small group into the living room and took a seat on the sofa, Michaela curling up beside her.

"So are we invited to this baseball game, Joseph?" she queried, "I used to be quite good at one point."

"I'm not playing," interjected Marjorie as an excited buzz instantly filled the room, "I just got my nails done and these are completely the wrong shoes."

As Elizabeth tried to convince Marjorie to at least accompany them outside, Sully leaned over to Michaela.

"You never told me your sister was so pretty," he whispered, glancing up as Marjorie impatiently flipped her hair over her shoulder. A troubled expression momentarily flickered in Michaela's eyes before she shook her head and rolled said eyes in her characteristic gesture of disapproval.

"Her _boyfriend_ thinks so too," she explained dryly, "he's a jock, she's a cheerleader. What a loser pair they make."

Sully however continued to stare at the figure before him as though enchanted and Michaela, recognising the signs, stalked off towards the kitchen.

"What's the matter?" queried Joseph, breaking off midsentence as his daughter took a seat gloomily at the counter.

"Sully's been Marjorie'd" explained Michaela dryly, picking up an apple from the fruit basket and turning it idly in her hands.

"Give it ten minutes," chuckled Elizabeth and noting Michaela's malignant expression, pulled the apple gently back to safety.

"Why, what happens in ten minutes?" asked Michaela, glancing up curiously.

"Billy will call and apologise, again" laughed Elizabeth, "So tell me, how are things at school?"

Michaela was in full flow, merrily discussing the minutia of her latest science paper when Sully sidled into the kitchen, his face flushed in obvious embarrassment. She wouldn't have registered his renewed presence had her father not failed to comment on her last point but raised his eyes instead to bestow a sympathetic glance on the lone figure by the door. Michaela turned and as Sully's wide eyed gaze met hers, a wicked grin spread across her face. Pre-empting the diabolical diatribe that was undoubtedly about to be unleashed on the already mortified boy, Joseph swiftly intervened and suggested they start warming up for the game in the handkerchief sized back yard. Sully eagerly agreed and hastily followed the doctor out of the back door.

"He won't be the first or the last," mused Elizabeth, picking up her cup of coffee and heading back towards the living room. As she passed her daughter, she nudged her playfully with her shoulder, "So you be nice."

* * *

To Michaela's dismay, Elizabeth and Marjorie were only able to stay until Monday afternoon. Sully's blithe guess about Elizabeth's profession had actually proved correct, much to everyone's amusement, and as the defence attorney for a high profile case due to commence later in the week, Elizabeth was keen to be back in Boston. Michaela had certainly not inherited her intense desire to be over prepared for any eventuality from her father. Marjorie too was desperate to return home and to all the luxuries a cosmopolitan life offered. On numerous occasions, she had sniffily pronounced Colorado as "quaint" but far too rustic to spend any length of time in. Michaela's temper seemed to be hardwired to slights on her new home town and she had stoutly defended it against such remarks, often accompanied by silent but fervent nodding from the ever present Sully.

Sully had taken to giving Marjorie a particularly wide berth during the remainder of her visit, a fact which Michaela had not only noticed but took get pleasure in pointing out to him. Fully aware of his serious error in judgement, Sully tolerated the continuous ribbing stoically though humour rapidly bore out over humiliation and he even began to retaliate to some of Michaela's more ridiculous suggestions. When Rebecca, Marjorie's wild and slightly eccentric twin sister, had rung on Saturday night to find out whether the tremors she had felt in Boston were actually due to Marjorie storming around in her new boots, he had merrily joined in the three way conversation, elaborating the tales Michaela was cheerfully narrating to her favourite sister.

Two very mournful expressions therefore met Joseph as he stopped by the Coopers on Monday evening after work. Michaela was clearly out of sorts and as a human mirror to every emotion his daughter felt, Sully's expression was akin to that of someone at the death bed of a close friend. If he hadn't been so wracked with guilt that his decision to bring Michaela out to Colorado with him was a mistake, the situation would have appeared quite comical. As it was, he merely pried his daughter out of the arm chair and slipping his arms around her shoulders, reassured her that her mother would visit again soon.

Michaela's despondent mood continued however and Sully, who couldn't bear to see her so unhappy, took up the challenge of cheering her up. As they sat together in Math, sneakily munching on the sweets he had smuggled inside his pencil case, he presented his plan: An after school fishing trip. Michaela's eyes had instantly lit up and for the rest of class, the two had whispered out a scheme for getting past Charlotte's eagle eye.

Luck proved on their side; Brian had caught a cold and Charlotte was so busy keeping him from sneezing all over the dog that it was almost too easy for the two miscreants to sneak out the back door.

"Careful!" hissed Michaela as Sully stumbled over the uneven surface of the back yard and sent a pair of wellington boots flying, "do you wanna get caught?"

"Yeh cos you're such a regular Nancy Drew," grumbled Sully, rolling his eyes, "can we just go already?"

"Ok," murmured Michaela, eyes darting around the yard and up to the first floor windows, "coast's clear. Run for it!"

She hurtled towards the gate that marked the end of the Cooper's property and the start of the public woodland, Sully hot on her heels. Heaving up the rusty latch, she managed to create a narrow gap, just wide enough for Sully and his back pack to slip through. Once through, he hastily pulled out the heavy textbook Michaela had insisted on checking out of the library earlier that day and jammed it in the gap so they could get back in again.

"That's a library book!" exclaimed Michaela, watching him in horror.

"You got a better idea?" breathed Sully, brushing his hair out of his face before fixing her with a mischievous grin, "now you coming or what?"

The freedom was an incredible high and for ten minutes, as they raced towards the river, coats flying behind them like kites caught in the wind, the woods fairly shook with the sound of their delighted laughter. What they hadn't counted on however was Mother Nature. All the rain over the last few weeks had caused the river to swell and rise high up the banks. As Sully surveyed the rapidly moving current in dismay, he knew there was no way they'd catch anything.

"You sure?" queried Michaela, eyeing the rushing waters with a critical eye, "I bet we could wade out a little way and maybe…"

"Don't be stupid," snapped Sully, folding his arms, "it's moving too fast and it's not safe."

"You chicken?" teased Michaela, flapping her arms around him, "bwaaack, bwaaack, bwack, bwaaaaaack!"

"Shut up!" yelled Sully, shoving back on Michaela's chest. Caught off balance, she tumbled backwards. Her hands came out to brace her fall but she wasn't quite fast enough to catch her knee before it smashed into a large stone welded into the mud.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, sitting up straight to examine the extent of the damage. A thin trickle of blood was oozing through a new hole in her already frayed jeans.

"Great!" she growled, swiping at the blood, "now Dad's definitely going to chuck these out. Thanks Sully!"

Glaring up at him, she was about to demand an explanation for his strange behaviour but the expression on his face was so shocked that her anger rapidly dissipated.

"What's up?" she queried, heaving herself to her feet, her brows knitting together in concern.

"I'm sorry," replied Sully, his face paling further, "about your knee I mean. I didn't mean to push you so hard."

"It was an accident," conceded Michaela quickly, "and I'm sorry about what I said. I don't think you're a chicken at all."

"The water," continued Sully quietly, "when it's moving so fast, it kinda scares me. Like there's no stopping it and anything could happen if you get in its way."

"Kinda stupid huh?" he added, with a half smile at Michaela.

"No, not stupid," replied Michaela thoughtfully, "everyone's scared of something."

"Except you," amended Sully with a wide grin, "you're not scared of anything."

Michaela suddenly shook her head, as though pulling herself back to reality and gazed at him.

"Sure I'm scared of stuff," she said bluntly, "I wouldn't be normal if I wasn't."

"What are you scared of?" asked Sully, regarding her curiously.

Michaela was silent for a few moments before swallowing hard and answering quietly, "Being on my own."

Sully watched her silently for a moment before nudging her shoulder gently with his.

"Well that's just plain crazy cos you'll always have me around."

* * *

Soaking wet and trailing mud, the two friends arrived back at the house. They'd barely been gone for more than half an hour but most unluckily, Colleen, who had been searching high and low for Sully had taken up guard by the window and spied them creeping back in. Instantly riddled with jealousy, she had lost no time in yelling for her mother.

The upshot of their little escapade was that far from being cheered up, Michaela was forced to endure two torturous days alone at school. Sully was off nursing a cold that was no doubt borne of his afternoon in wet clothes and the Meathead crew used every opportunity to harass the petite girl picking at her chips in the corner of the cafeteria. When Friday finally arrived, Michaela sat down to her lunch, relieved that at least tomorrow she'd be able to speak to Sully. Joseph, furious at his daughter's lack of responsibility, had imposed a ban on any form of communication between the two friends til the weekend. Naturally, Michaela had tried several ways of getting around this. However, when Joseph had discovered notes hidden amidst the tuna salad filling of her lunch, he had finally unleashed the full force of his anger. Stunned into submission, Michaela had meekly apologised and vowed to serve the remainder of her sentence without complaint.

"Where's your loser boyfriend today huh? Guess even a dumbass like him couldn't stand to be around a freak like you!"

Michaela ground her teeth together as the jeers echoed across the cafeteria. Pulling a book from her bag, she made to immerse herself in eighteenth century England. Before she even had a chance to find the right page however, the book suddenly vanished from her grip.

"Give it back," she demanded, glaring up at the group of boys now towering over her table.

"No," replied the lumpy form of Mr Meathead himself.

"Shame your _boyfriend_ isn't here to get it back for you," he taunted, lifting the book well above his head and out of her reach, "though he's such a sucker he might as well be your _girlfriend_."

This last had the other boys in hysterics and something inside Michaela suddenly snapped. Blood rushing to her face, she stood up, her hands balling into fists.

"You shut up about Sully," she said angrily, "he's much smarter than all of you dorkheads put together. And give me my book back _now_."

"You think you can take me?" sneered the thuggish leader, sizing up his opponent.

"I don't think," hissed Michaela, "I know."

Out of nowhere, a small fist rose up and smacked straight into the older boy's face. A resounding crack and a sudden gush of blood indicated the punch was right on target and with a most girlish howl of pain, the boy instantly dropped the heavy novel.

"Thanks," finished Michaela, reaching down to pick up the book as the cafeteria exploded around her, "I was just getting to the good part."

What with a bruised right hook, a broken nose and two week's worth of detentions to contend with, Michaela was very glad that spring break had finally arrived. Sully, who had cried with laughter at the thought of his tiny best friend beating up a boy twice her size, was however deeply touched that Michaela had stood up for him in his absence. To that end, he had dutifully waited for her to serve her sentence after school every day for a fortnight and when she finally came hurtling towards him on her final Friday, he breathed a huge sigh of relief. They were finally free.


	6. Chapter 6

**June**

The new term wasn't nearly as much fun as the last. With the end of year assessments looming, the teachers were setting more homework than ever as well as dropping deeply unsubtle hints about the difficulty of the forthcoming examinations. For his part, Sully didn't seem overly bothered about his school work and was more concerned about how many music lessons he would miss. His mother was determined that he scrape a decent grade this year and Sully spent many long hours in the library developing elaborate schemes that would enable him to make it to his class and get his assignments in on time. Of course, the location for these mass scheming sessions was most definitely not his first choice but the word "examination" seemed to have ignited a previously dormant neurotic side to Michaela's personality and she had taken to burying herself in the library at every opportunity. On the rare occasion that she stayed home, she refused to be tempted out of her room by frivolities such as food and television. Not that Sully hadn't tried. One Saturday afternoon, he had emerged scowling from her bedroom, rubbing a tender spot on his head where an artfully thrown pencil case had just made contact. Joseph, to whom Michaela's fits of temper at times of stress were horribly familiar, had merely laughed as Sully growled out his annoyance. As an astute physician, he had long since worked out a sure fire remedy to his daughter's curious ailment and he had sent the unwilling, wounded soldier up ten minutes later with a plate of double chocolate brownies. Mere moments later, he had slumped back down on the couch with a satisfied smirk as the sound of raucous laughter filtered down the stairs.

Time flew by and the week of the examinations finally arrived. Sully arrived at school early on the Monday to find Michaela meticulously arranging her freshly sharpened pencils in a row. Though he was longing to make a joke about her apparent OCD, he knew better than to antagonise her right before an exam and took his seat in silence. Besides he liked the shape of his head and didn't fancy trying to sit still for an hour with a razor sharp pencil lodged in his skull. Michaela relaxed enough over lunch to join in Sully's abuse of their despicably hard math paper and by the time school let out on Friday, she was thankfully back to her normal self.

* * *

"So what are you doing for summer vacation?" asked Michaela casually as she dealt another hand. It was the weekend after their last exam and as Joseph had the day off, Sully had arrived bright and early to celebrate their freedom. Too early for Joseph's liking; he'd had a busy few days at the hospital and was desperate to catch up on some sleep. Michaela had assured him that he could go back to bed, that they'd be fine and would even keep the noise level to a background hum. Joseph had fixed her with a sceptical gaze but had eventually caved. Having quickly laid down ground rules that covered everything from running in doors to open flames and marshmallows in cereal, he'd retreated gratefully upstairs leaving Michaela and Sully to a round of poker.

"Not sure," mused Sully, examining his lot, "nothing special. Mom's working so I'll probably be round the Cooper's a lot. What about you?"

"I'm going to Boston for two weeks in July," replied Michaela, frowning at her cards, "and I'm helping out in the lab at the hospital for a while. Dad fixed it up for me a few weeks ago."

When the silence following this response remained unbroken for several minutes, Michaela glanced up in surprise.

"You didn't tell me you were going home," said Sully, hastily dropping his gaze.

"I'm not going home, I'm going to Boston." corrected Michaela, "My mom rang last night to say she'd booked my ticket."

"It's only two weeks, fourteen days of being yelled at by Marjorie," she added with a grin as Sully failed to look up, "and I'll email every day. And I promise I'll help out when I get back."

"Sure you will," replied Sully, rolling his eyes, "leave all the hard work to me."

"You've already done the floor and two walls," retorted Michaela, "it's hardly like there's loads left to do."

"You make it sound like a hut in the middle of the jungle," said Sully with a scowl.

"It's a tree house in the middle of your back yard," giggled Michaela, "what's the difference?"

At the thought of the knee high grass and wild untamed weeds that threatened to tangle around his legs every time he ventured outdoors, Sully conceded the point with a laugh before turning the conversation to the advantage of his grumbling stomach.

* * *

 **July**

 _Tue July 28 0800:_

 _Sully,_

 _Just two more days to go then I'm out of here. I can't wait to get home. Marjorie's driving me crazy. She's either making out with Billy on the couch (seriously, we know what tonsils look like, we don't need to see yours!) or yelling at me. Is it my fault that the one time I decide to try on her sweater, Becky decides to attack me with a jello shot? The girl is totally wild but she hates Billy too which is great. I wish you could have seen Marjorie's face when she strolled downstairs to breakfast yesterday in a pair of tiny shorts and a tank top. Billy's eyes nearly bugged outta their sockets and Majorie looked like she was having a stroke. She had to slap him he was so zoned out. Priceless!_

 _Becky's going to try and sneak me into the bar where she works tonight. I'll fill you in on the details when I get back. I can't wait!_

 _Love, Michaela_

* * *

 _Wed July 29 1100:_

 _Sully,_

 _I'm never ever having a drink! Beer is the grossest thing ever…it smells like someone's already digested it. The bar was cool though. Becky managed to sneak me into the back though I had to duck under the counter whenever her boss came by. My knuckles are never going to be the same again. I got to meet some of her friends too. I can't wait for my turn to go to Harvard._

 _My plane lands at midday tomorrow._

 _Love, Michaela_

* * *

 _Wed July 29 1500:_

 _I'll ask your dad if I can ride to the airport with him._

 _I can't wait to show you the tree house. Matthew helped out and we finished it last night._

 _Sully_

* * *

 _Wed July 29 1600:_

 _I don't think that's such a great idea._

 _Meet me Friday at the hospital after your class?_

 _Michaela_

* * *

 _Wed July 29 1700:_

 _Why don't you want me to come to the airport? Is something wrong?_

 _Sully_

* * *

 _Wed July 29 1900:_

 _No, nothings wrong._

 _See you Friday_

 _Michaela_

* * *

"Your boyfriend's waiting out front, Mike!"

"He's not my boyfriend," came the automatic response.

"Not yet," laughed Emma, flipping her long brown curls over her shoulder, "Though he's such a looker, I don't know what you're waiting for."

"Sully and I are friends," replied Michaela, carefully labelling the specimens on the bench before her, "best friends. But that's all."

"Uh huh," agreed the lab technician with a knowing grin as she turned back to the array of equipment laid out before her.

"Ok I'm done," said Michaela, hopping down off her high stool and grabbing her back pack from the floor, "See you Monday, Em?"

"Sure thing, honey," chuckled Emma, "have fun with your non boy friend. And lemme know what he says, word for word."

"Sure," replied Michaela, rolling her eyes dramatically before heading out the door. Seconds later, she was hurtling across the beautifully trimmed lawn to the railings where Sully was waiting, her long brown hair flying loose in the breeze.

"Hey," she called out excitedly, as she slowed to a halt before him, "you came."

To her surprise, Sully merely continued to fiddle with the strap of the battered back pack slung over his shoulder, his expression malignant.

"Sully?" she queried with a frown, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"You wanna tell me?" stated Sully icily, staring moodily at his sneakers.

"Tell you what?" she asked innocently.

"What ever it is that you're hiding from me. Why I wasn't allowed to come meet you yesterday. Why your dad said you were washing your hair every time I rang to speak to you last night. Take your pick."

Michaela bit back a laugh and continued to stare at him with what she hoped was a baffled expression.

"And don't even try the innocent face," growled Sully, "I invented it remember, to get us into that horror movie? Not that that would be cool enough for you now, what with all the bars you've been going to and all."

"Why are you laughing?" he fairly snarled as Michaela cracked up beside him. Dropping her backpack on the ground, she swiftly opened the main zipper and dug around inside. Moments later, she straightened up, a leather binder in her hands.

"Happy birthday Sully," she giggled, holding it out to him.

"I'm sorry you couldn't come over yesterday," she continued, as Sully stood frozen in front of her, "I had to finish sticking in the last bits and I knew I'd never get it done in time if you were around."

"Well aren't you going to take a look?" she teased, the laughter still dancing in her eyes.

Mutely, Sully took the binder and opened it up to the first page. In the middle was a picture of the two of them sitting side by side on the Quinn's porch. They'd just finished dinner and were enjoying dessert in the late evening sunshine when Joseph had pulled out the camera. Sully remembered the series of crazy faces that they'd pulled as Joseph snapped one shot after the after but he had no idea that this moment had been captured. Michaela, who had suddenly decided that experimenting with rocky road hadn't been a good idea, had been staring so mournfully at his ice cream that he'd agreed to trade with her. Joseph must have been pretty quick to snap the exact moment they'd made the trade and the beaming grin that had instantly lit up Michaela's face as her fingers closed over his cone. Glancing down, Sully smiled at the comment Michaela had scribbled under the picture: "Best friends, even when chocolate ice cream is involved."

"A photo album?" he asked, glancing up with a half smile.

"Keep going," encouraged Michaela, her hands twisting together in excitement.

Grinning at her infectious enthusiasm, Sully turned the page. His eyes widened as he scanned the black and white print, his forefinger tracing across the title and down the first few lines.

"Is this …" he began breathlessly.

"Yep," beamed Michaela, "Becky took me to this amazing little music shop in town. You would have loved it Sully. It had every track ever released by every band you could think of. The guy who ran it apparently knows my sister and when I asked if he had the scores for sale, he just pulled out this folder and told me to pick. Dad got the folder and some of the extra prints done whilst I was away so technically it's from both of us. Make sure you tell him I said that, ok, he thinks I'm going to hog all the glory."

"So do you like it?" she asked when he remained silent.

"This is _awesome_ ," he whispered, looking up from the pages in his hand, "it's the best gift ever!"

"You've got no excuse now," replied Michaela smugly, "you can really start playing what you wanna play."

"I can't wait to try these out," he began excitedly, flipping frantically through the pages and exclaiming in delight as he encountered songs and artists he had worshipped for the better part of his life.

"We'd better get going or Mrs Cooper's going to start wondering where we are," sighed Michaela, glancing at her watch, "she made you a cake and everything and if we're late, the dog's gunna get our share."

"Ok, let me just put this away," agreed Sully, reverently tucking the binder away inside his bag.

"Thanks so much Michaela," he continued, as he slung the backpack into its rightful position, eyes shining with unveiled exuberance, "Sorry for being grouchy before."

"That's ok," replied Michaela with a broad smile, swinging her own bag up as they set off down the street.

"Hey Sully," she said suddenly, as they waited at a crossing for the traffic lights to change, "two out of the five times that you rang last night, I really was washing my hair."


	7. Chapter 7

**September**

"Sully, have you seen this?" exclaimed Michaela, thrusting a piece of paper towards him.

"What is it?" he asked, leaning into the wall to avoid being run over by a gaggle of fifth graders making their way to homeroom. It was the first day back after summer vacation and the halls were heaving with hoards of students, clustering around their lockers or else fighting to get to their classes.

"It's my timetable," she groaned, "they've split us up!"

"No way!" he breathed, snatching the sheet and examining it closely.

"Great," said Michaela bitterly, "now I'll have to face math, spanish and science on my own."

"Hey we still have English together," offered Sully gently but Michaela was not to be appeased. She merely grabbed the sheet of paper and stuffing it into her binder, turned her back on him before he could see her devastated expression.

"I'll see you at lunch," called Sully at the retreating figure but she never turned around.

* * *

As the bell finally rang to signal the end of the day, he breathed a huge sigh of relief and chucking his notes and pencil case higgledy piggledy into his backpack, he sprinted to the door. She hadn't come down to lunch at all though he'd waited til there were just five minutes left and he'd had to run flat out to make it to his next class on time. When he'd arrived in English, her usual seat was still empty and he'd instantly thrown his bag on it to reserve it for her. But when she'd arrived, she had blithely ignored his attempts to get her attention and dropped into a seat right at the front. The hurt was no doubt evident on his face and for a good ten minutes, he had had no idea what the teacher was talking about.

Making his way through the chattering crowds ambling towards the exit, he steeled himself for the argument that was undoubtedly coming. He would risk it though: to know what was wrong, why she hadn't come to sit by him. A group of girls walked past him and recognising a blonde girl who used to sit in front of him in math last year, he headed to the classroom she'd just left. His heart sank as he surveyed the empty room: she'd already gone.

* * *

"Phew," chuckled Joseph, grabbing the silver hat and plonking it down on "Go".

"Nice try Dad," grinned Michaela, grabbing the piece and moving it back a square, "three and two make five. Pay up."

"Ugh," groaned Joseph, reaching for the stack of hundred dollar bills he'd painstakingly collected, "how much?"

"Hmmm, four houses on Boardwalk," mused Michaela, bending over the small square to check the price, "its not gunna be pretty."

The first week of school had finally drawn to a close and as Joseph had the weekend off work, he'd suggested they do something to celebrate. He knew Michaela had been dying to visit the new library that had opened up just off the interstate and he'd gone to bed on Friday night thoroughly prepared to be roused at some ungodly hour in the morning by an overexcited thirteen year old. However, he'd already showered and dressed by the time she'd come padding down the stairs in her most threadbare pyjamas and furry socks. She had barely registered his cheerful greeting as she'd helped herself to some cereal and settled down in front of the television. It wasn't hard to guess the reason for her apathy; Sully hadn't called again since Wednesday and his absence on a sunny Saturday morning was deeply telling. They'd had fights in the past, petty squabbles that for the most part they'd manage to work out for themselves. It was only to be expected with two friends who practically lived out of each others pockets but they'd never gone so long without any contact and Joseph was worried. He had mulled over various ways to broach the subject with Michaela, knowing full well that one wrong move and she'd pull out the ultimate Quinn defence mechanism: total isolation. Finally, he'd resorted to pulling out the battered old board game in the hope that Michaela's competitive spirit coupled with the opportunity to completely bankrupt him would provide a suitable opening for a discussion.

"So," he began slowly, fingering the creases in a faded fifty dollar note, "you talk to Sully yet?"

Michaela's frown deepened but she continued to stare silently at the card in front of her.

"I'll take that as a no then," sighed Joseph, shifting his leg into a more comfortable position, "Mike, you can't keep ignoring him."

"It's not his fault you two got split up," he added when his daughter failed to respond.

"He ratted me out to _you_?" spat Michaela, sitting up and flipping her hair angrily over her shoulder.

"He didn't rat you out," explained Joseph calmly, "he called and you wouldn't speak to him. He was upset and worried that's all."

Michaela merely scowled deeply and drawing her knees up to her chest, fixed her fierce glare on the plastic hotels scattered across the carpet.

"We've always been able to talk about everything, Mike," sighed Joseph, watching the emotions flicker across his daughter's face.

"Michaela?" he encouraged, reaching across to tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. His touch seemed to thaw her out and with a sigh, she dropped her head onto her knees.

"I hate them," she murmured.

"Who?" queried Joseph, his brow rising in concern.

"The girls in my class," explained Michaela softly, turning her cheek to her knees so that she could meet his gaze.

"At first I was mad cos I got split up from Sully but I knew it wasn't his fault. But then I heard them talking."

"What were they saying?" probed Joseph.

"They'd tease me about my work, call me a know-it-all and a show off. I tried to ignore them cos I know they're just jealous."

Michaela rolled her eyes and Joseph grinned at her but her answering smile faded quickly.

"When they saw I was ignoring them, they started talking about Sully. They said Sully'd want a friend who was pretty and wore skirts and that I was too much of a tom boy and a geek to keep him interested."

"Ah," breathed Joseph in understanding, "so that explains the sudden disappearance of my shaving kit."

Michaela merely nodded sadly and rolling up her jeans, displayed the several healing cuts that attested to her run in with the razor.

"I guess I don't know how to do it properly," she mumbled.

Joseph sighed and shuffled round the board to place his arm around his daughter's hunched shoulders.

"Mike," he began kindly, rubbing her arms gently, "you never should've listened to those girls. They're just petty and mean. You have a great friend in Sully and he doesn't care how you look, you know that. Remember the acrylic paint?"

Michaela gave a half choked laugh and leant against her father's chest as she too recalled the wretched science poster that had left a good two inches of her hair coated in fuschia pink paint that had refused to wash out. There had been no alternative but to chop off the offending bit leaving the right side of her head horribly out of proportion with the left.

"You're far too young to be worrying about shaving your legs or wearing make up," continued Joseph, "and as for having a friend who happens to be a boy, look at me and your mother."

"What do you mean?" asked Michaela, shifting so that she could look up at his face.

"Well, we were best friends for three years at college before she realised what a stud I was and asked me out," chuckled Joseph, winking at his daughter.

"Sure Dad," laughed Michaela, "want me to ring Mom up and verify that?"

"Ok so I asked her out," conceded Joseph with a grin, "but that's not the point."

"I know," sighed Michaela, "I guess I was just being stupid. I never should have yelled at Sully like that. D'you think he'll forgive me?"

"I dunno," replied Joseph gravely, "you chewed him out pretty bad the last time."

As Michaela's face fell, he grinned and tossing the phone into her lap added, "If you grovel, he might just make it over in time for lunch."


	8. Chapter 8

**February**

"Beat to soft peaks," she read slowly, bending down to examine the small picture that accompanied the recipe. Her gaze travelled to the mixing bowl and peering inside, she scowled deeply.

"I don't think it's supposed to look like that," she continued, brushing the back of her hand across her forehead and inadvertently leaving a floury trail in its wake.

"You could help you know," she added, casting an impatient glance towards Sully who was lolling contentedly in his chair at the counter.

"But you said you didn't need my help," he smirked, tossing an apple idly into the air and catching it deftly, "you said it was easy and all you had to do was follow the recipe carefully."

"Yeah, well," huffed Michaela, shoving the bowl towards him, "do you honestly think this is going to rise?"

"It looks like someone threw up in your cake mix," laughed Sully, wrinkling his nose at the watery gloop that lined the bottom of the mixing bowl.

"I'd like to see you do better," snapped Michaela, slamming the bowl down on the counter and folding her arms, "it's supposed to be a joint entry and all you've done is swing on your chair and eat half the fruit bowl."

"Alright, I'll help," chuckled Sully, slipping down off the high stool and strolling over to the cluttered counter, "just don't go all glaring-Quinn on me."

Michaela glared anyway.

"It's not as easy as it looks," she retorted fiercely as Sully grabbed another bowl from the cupboard and proceeded to weigh out more sugar.

"Why don't you take out the trash?" suggested Sully with a grin, gesturing to her bowl before reaching for the eggs. When she remained motionless, he half turned towards her and ducked just in time as an artfully thrown handful of flour launched itself in the direction of his head.

* * *

"Hey Michaela."

"Oh, hey Katy," replied Michaela with a smile, glancing up from the sea of multicoloured cupcakes that brightened the small stand.

"I wanted to say thanks for your help with those math problems, you really saved my life. My mum would've freaked if I'd gotten another C."

"No problem," grinned Michaela, "I'm glad I could help avert the massacre."

"Did you make these?" asked Katy, her blonde hair falling around her face as she bent to examine the beautifully iced cakes.

"Definitely not," laughed Michaela, "my batch are lining our trash can. Sully made these."

"Oh," said Katy quietly, her cheeks reddening as she hastily straightened up. Michaela's brow furrowed for a moment but as she followed her friend's gaze, a mischievous glint crept into her eyes.

"Did you want one?" she asked slyly, "I think this one is perfect for you."

"What do you reckon Sully?" she queried, picking up a bright pink cake topped with a candy heart and holding it up as though for inspection.

"Sure," replied Sully, barely glancing at the cake as he continued to flick through his copy of Rolling Stone, silently wishing himself far, far away.

"75 cents please," said Michaela, barely able to contain her smug smile as her friend's cheeks turned cherry red.

"She likes you," stated Michaela, as soon as the now very embarrassed Katy had wandered away from their table, the small cake held in her hand.

"Well I'm a nice person," replied Sully idly, "it's hard not to like me. Can we go now? There's only ten minutes of the sale left anyway."

"I mean _like_ likes you," persisted Michaela, crossing her arms across her chest and fixing Sully with a beady eye.

"Uhoh," began Sully, his eyes narrowing, "I know that look. Whatever you want, the answer's no."

"Don't be an idiot Sully, I don't want anything," giggled Michaela, "but Katy might."

"What d'you mean?" replied Sully, his expression one of complete bewilderment.

"Well, the Valentine's Day dance is next weekend and I reckon Katy's looking for a date."

"You mean me?" queried Sully, his voice rising in disbelief.

"No, I mean me," said Michaela, rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Very funny," scowled Sully, nudging her with his shoulder and provoking a fit of giggles.

"So you really think she likes me?" mused Sully, as he retrieved their backpacks from under the table.

"Maybe one day you'll be able to tell for yourself if a girl likes you," laughed Michaela, slinging her bag over her shoulder, "but until then I guess I'll just have to interpret the beetroot coloured cheeks for you."

* * *

 _Plink….Plink….Plink…_

Placing her book face down on the covers, she padded over to the window and drew back the curtain. Peering out, she searched for the source of the strange noise that had abruptly drawn her back from turn of the century London. A white figure standing just under her window caught her attention and as she squinted into the darkness, her eyes widened in surprise. Fumbling with the catch, she carefully eased the window open.

"Sully!" she hissed, "what are you doing?"

"Let me in," came the reply, "it's freezing out here!"

"Are you crazy?" she retorted, "my dad's in the next room!"

"I brought cake," offered Sully, lifting up the cardboard box at his feet.

"I'll be right down," giggled Michaela after a moment's hesitation, pulling the window shut. Grabbing her dressing gown and a particularly fluffy pair of socks that were certain to muffle the sound of her footsteps, she crept out of her room towards the stairs. At the top, she paused and listened but the house was deadly quiet.

"What took you so long?" grumbled Sully as he darted into the hallway, his cheeks pale from standing in the cold.

"Shhhh," whispered Michaela in reply, grabbing his arm and guiding him towards the stairs, "don't forget to miss the first one, it creaks."

"I figured you'd still be up and I couldn't miss your birthday," explained Sully, once they were safely closeted in Michaela's room.

"What will your Mom think?" queried Michaela around a mouthful of birthday cake.

"I left her a note," shrugged Sully unconcernedly, helping himself to another slice.

"So," began Michaela, licking stray bits of icing off her fingers, "how was the dance?"

"That good, huh?" she giggled as Sully grimaced and hastily ducked his head.

"What did you do?" she probed, casually stretching out on her stomach and resting her head in her hands, "forget to kiss her?"

"Sully!" she wailed, as his suddenly embarrassed expression affirmed her worst fears, "you didn't! Poor Katy."

"It's not like I didn't try," replied Sully with a scowl, "but she kept moving and I ended up kissing her nose."

"It's not funny," he growled as Michaela burst into a fit of hushed giggles, "wait til it's your turn, then you'll see how hard it is."

"Sure," laughed Michaela, as Sully continued to stare malignantly at his knees, "though knowing me, I'll end up tripping over and breaking his nose."

At the grave expression on her face as she contemplated the details of this scenario, Sully couldn't help but laugh. Comforted by the fact that he had at least not caused any lasting bodily damage, he settled down to enjoy another piece of cake.

* * *

Two pairs of eyes suddenly flew open at the loud, insistent knock.

"Mike?" called Joseph through the door, "you up?"

"Yeah," replied Michaela, struggling to keep her voice steady as she threw off the covers and leapt soundlessly out of bed.

"You sure, or do I need to come in and drag the duvet off you again?" teased Joseph.

"I'm up Dad," Michaela assured him, grabbing Sully's arm and shoving him towards the closet, "I'll be down in a minute."

"Ok then," said Joseph after a moment's silence, "And Mike? Get Sully out of the closet. I'm making pancakes and if wouldn't be fair to deprive him of my culinary expertise."

"What?!" exclaimed Michaela, pulling open the door and staring wide eyed at her father just as Sully emerged grinning from the closet, "you knew?!"

"Please, give me some credit," chuckled Joseph, rolling his eyes dramatically, "after all I did raise Becky and Marjorie. I know when a boy's been smuggled into the house."

"I didn't smuggle him in," began Michaela, determined to explain, "he just turned up outside. I couldn't exactly leave him on the porch all night."

Joseph however, merely laughed at the fervent expression on his daughter's face.

"Breakfast in ten," he said, heading for the stairs, "if you can manage it, that is, after all the birthday cake you two ate last night."

Michaela and Sully gaped at each other, as Joseph disappeared downstairs, stunned by his apparent omnipotence. Both however, were completely unaware of the cake box lying empty just beside the door.


	9. Chapter 9

**May**

"Still up, Mike?" called Joseph, as he spotted his daughter curled up on the couch, engrossed in a book.

"Mmmm," was the articulate response he received and chuckling at her deep concentration, he shrugged out of his jacket and collapsed into a squashy arm chair.

"Where's Mrs Baker?" he queried suddenly, looking around with a slight frown.

"I sent her home," stated Michaela blithely, not raising her eyes from the page.

"What?" exclaimed Joseph, his fingers freezing in the act of loosening his tie.

"Kidding," giggled Michaela, glancing up at her father, "she's on the phone in the kitchen."

"Very funny," replied Joseph dryly, pulling off his tie and opening the top button of his shirt, "so what are you reading now?

"Hmmm," he continued, as Michaela held the cover up for inspection, "I'm not sure complete psychological breakdown is an appropriate subject for a fourteen year old."

"I think Raskolnikov is a fascinating character actually," commented Michaela thoughtfully before fixing her father with a wary expression.

"So how did it go?"

"Well the good news is your teachers are all pleased with your progress," replied Joseph, "they all said you were very hard working, punctual, eager to help your colleagues..."

"But?" asked Michaela as her father's voice trailed off.

"They're concerned about your extra-curricular activities," finished Joseph, "or the lack thereof."

"I do stuff," interjected Michaela immediately, "I'm in the science club and I help out with the fourth grade math class and I put up the displays for Art class."

"That's just it though, Mike," explained Joseph gently, "as great as those things are, they're all academic. Maybe you should think about joining a different club, something a bit more fun, less serious."

"You think I don't have fun?" queried Michaela, her brow instantly furrowing.

"Sure you do," replied Joseph instantly, "when Sully drags you away from your homework."

"Listen," he added, as Michaela made to interrupt, "I'm not saying forget your work and head off and join a circus. Just don't forget to take time and enjoy yourself along the way."

"Well, I guess I could," mused Michaela, before getting up and grabbing her backpack from its slumped position by the front door.

"I saw this pinned up at the library and thought it looked interesting," she said, rooting around in the bag for several moments before pulling out a bright blue flyer.

"I'm sure it meets your non academic criteria," she added, throwing it casually into her father's hands before resuming her position on the couch.

"You sure about this?" said Joseph slowly, his eyes widening in surprise as he scanned the bold print.

"Why," replied Michaela, "Don't you think I'd be any good?"

"No, you can do anything you put your mind to, but all the other kids in the class…" he began.

"It'll be fine Dad," finished Michaela with a lopsided smile, "I don't mind if you don't."

* * *

"Mike! Your boyfriend's here."

"He's not my boyfriend, Alice," said Michaela for the umpteenth, rolling her eyes as the little blonde girl at her side burst into a fit of giggles before jumping up and heading for the door.

"There you go, Lily," she continued, knotting the laces on the sneakers again for good measures, "you're all set. Now go see if you can catch up to that crazy sister of yours."

"Thanks, Mike," giggled Lily, grabbing Michaela in an awkward hug, "see you next week!"

"Don't forget your shoes," laughed Michaela, lobbing the ballet pumps gently into the six year old's hands. Lily squealed excitedly as she successfully caught hold of the thick, pink ribbons and with a final smile at Michaela, she disappeared out the door, shoes swinging wildly.

Straightening up, Michaela grabbed her own bag from the bench. Yanking her sneakers out from their position between two hefty textbooks, she hastily slipped them on. In a flash, her hair had been let loose from the austere bun it had been struggling against for the past hour and with a sigh of relief, she jetted towards the exit.

Sully was waiting in his usual spot just around the corner from the studio. His initial reaction when Michaela had told him she was joining a ballet class was to stare blankly at her for several minutes before asking her if she was completely mad. His comments had earned him the trademark glare and twenty four hours of the silent treatment. Michaela's explanation, when he had apologised enough for her to start speaking to him again, was so simple he couldn't believe he hadn't guessed it: Harvard. Of course this class was just another part of the grand scheme to get into an Ivy league school. Michaela had maintained that she only needed to take the class for a month or so but what neither of them had counted on was how much she'd enjoy it. Despite dancing with students half her age, Michaela had thrived on the new challenges presented to her and within a month, she'd even been moved up a group. So Sully had had to resign himself to losing his best friend to a musty dance hall for two afternoons a week and as Michaela had religiously turned up every week to meet him after his music class, he had decided to return the favour.

"Hey, Sully," called Michaela, as she walked briskly over to where he stood, "so what's the plan?"

"I brought your bike," replied Sully, bending down to heave it up off the ground, "thought we could go for a ride."

"Sure," agreed Michaela readily, hoiking her backpack onto both shoulders to balance the weight before grabbing her bike from Sully's hands.

"Though no more racing along mud tracks," she added, "Dad flipped out at the trails we left in the kitchen last time."

"Hey, wait," called Sully, as Michaela sped up and overtook him, "look there!"

Michaela slowed to a stop and gazed in the direction he was pointing.

"It's just a cardboard box," she stated impatiently, "come on. I want to get home."

"It's moving," insisted Sully, throwing his bike down on the path and striding up the slope into the small copse where a dirty box was lying, half hidden in the grass.

"Maybe you shouldn't open it," began Michaela in a worried tone, as she dismounted and set off after Sully, "it could be …."

"Dangerous," she finished just as Sully pushed open the box and a small, grey duster launched itself at his chest.


	10. Chapter 10

"Hey! Cut it out, Wolf," laughed Sully, as the puppy eagerly licked his cheek.

"He's not a wolf," corrected Michaela, glancing over from her computer, "he's an Alaskan Malamute. It says so on this dog breeding website."

"Well, he definitely answers to Wolf, not Alaskan malamute," chuckled Sully as the puppy barked once before proceeding to paw at his new owner's hair.

"I think he's probably just hungry," continued Michaela sceptically, turning back to the screen and clicking on a link about feeding regimens, "no dog would ever want to be called Wolf."

"This one does," maintained Sully as the puppy barked gleefully again and ploughed his head into Sully's armpit.

"Though I do think he's hungry, maybe we should…"

Michaela turned around, her half smile suddenly freezing in place as the unmistakable sound of a door opening filtered up the stairs.

"My dad's back," she whispered, eyes widening in fear, "you've got to get him out of here."

"I can't take him!" hissed Sully, "my mom's allergic to dogs!"

"What!" exclaimed Michaela furiously, "then why on earth did you bring him back with us?"

"Well I couldn't just leave him out there," retorted Sully, "he would've died! Look, just keep him with you tonight. I'll decide what to do with him tomorrow."

"Please," he pleaded, noting Michaela's suddenly torn expression, "as a really early birthday present?"

* * *

"Shut up, shut up, shut up," moaned Michaela, rolling over in bed and dragging a pillow over her head. The low growling however continued and scowling, she opened one eye to glance at the clock on her nightstand.

3am.

"Don't you ever sleep?" she grumbled as she stumbled sleepily towards the closet. With Sully's help, she'd created a makeshift den on the floor by her shoes where they could safely house the puppy overnight. The plan was to move him into the garden shed early next morning and decide what to do with him when they got back from school. She had protested that as plans went, this one pretty much sucked but despite Sully's open challenge to come up with a better one, she'd been unable to think of anything and had had to accept defeat. The puppy, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation, had remained quietly hidden whilst they'd gone down to dinner and after a meal of scraps they'd managed to sneak into their pockets, had settled down on the heap of old clothes and promptly fallen asleep. Since Sully's departure however, he had grown restless. What had been an occasional murmur of discontent from the direction of the closet had now turned into a full blown tantrum and Michaela's patience was running out.

"Quiet!" she whispered angrily, as she eased open the door and peered inside. She caught a brief glimpse of the puppy's eyes glittering in the darkness before it bounded into her arms and burrowed into her chest. Michaela smiled in spite of herself.

"Ok, ok," she murmured, as the puppy yawned widely, "you can sleep with me tonight. Just keep the snoring to a minimum."

* * *

"You look terrible," commented Sully as they set off towards the Quinn residence, Michaela visibly dragging her feet.

"Well what do you expect, your stupid dog kept me up all night," retorted Michaela acidly, scowling malignantly.

"Why? Is he ok?" asked Sully, suddenly worried, "Maybe we should get him checked over by a vet?"

"He's fine," grumbled Michaela, rolling her eyes, "he eats, sleeps and pees perfectly."

"What?" exclaimed Sully, choking back a laugh.

"It's not funny," growled Michaela, "I woke up this morning to a nasty damp surprise on my duvet. I managed to get it into the washing machine without my dad noticing, but I don't know how I'm going to explain the need to dry it outside."

"Seriously," she continued, pausing suddenly and turning to Sully, "we can't keep him at mine for much longer without my dad finding out. We've got to think of something."

"I know," sighed Sully, his smile fading into a frown, "maybe we could ask Matthew to look after him for us?"

"We can call and ask him tonight," agreed Michaela, unlocking the side gate and squeezing through, "but in the meantime, I found some more information about what to feed a new puppy. And I think we should give him a bath too, he's starting to smell."

"When did you find time to research dog care?" wondered Sully, as he slipped in after Michaela.

"It's amazing what you can get done if you get up at 5am," explained Michaela dryly, heading across the yard to the shed.

"What?" asked Sully, as Michaela stopped abruptly and gasped in horror. Following her gaze, his mouth fell open.

"You did…?"

"Of course I closed it," snapped Michaela, dashing up to the shed door that now stood half open, "but the latch's old. Maybe he managed to slip it open or something."

"Well he's definitely not in here," said Sully, peering into the dark but obviously empty shed.

"Let's check the house," suggested Michaela anxiously, "he can't have gone far. Maybe he made his way back to my room."

"Hey kids," came an all too familiar voice from behind them, "I didn't hear you come in. What are you doing down here? You lose something?"

"No, Dad," replied Michaela, turning slowly to face her father, "we were just…."

"I see," said Joseph sedately, as Michaela's explanation trailed off into an uncomfortable silence, "Well, if I had been foolish enough to smuggle a dog into the house and then hide it in the shed all day, I'd seriously reconsider lying about it to my dad when he asked me about it."

"You know?" breathed Michaela just as Sully exclaimed, "You found him! Is he ok?"

"Yes, I know," replied Joseph, crossing his arms across his chest, "and yes, he's ok. Would you care to explain yourselves?"

"I'm sorry, Dad," whispered Michaela to the ground, unable to face the mingled fury and disappointment in her father's eyes, "We just didn't know what to do."

"Then you should have come and told me what was going on," said Joseph angrily, "we could have come up with a solution together. Do you realise how serious this is? The neighbours heard barking coming from the shed and rang me up at work, threatening to call the animal shelter. I had to leave early to come and sort out your mess."

"It wasn't her fault," began Sully bravely, "I asked…"

"I'm not interested in whose fault it was," cut in Joseph, "you are both equally to blame. Now, as neither of you seem to be able to act like responsible adults, I'm taking away all your privileges for two weeks. You're both grounded, starting now. You are not to go out except to go to school. Michaela, you'll be at Mrs Baker's every evening til I come and get you. Sully, you'll be at Charlotte's. No ballet, no music class. Do I make myself clear?"

Michaela, who knew better than to challenge her father when he was upset and felt that she had earned her punishment, nodded mutely. Sully however, was furious.

"That's not fair!" he interjected, "you're not my Dad, you can't tell me what to do!"

"No, I'm not," replied Joseph sedately, fixing Sully with a piercing glance, "but I've always treated you as a member of this family. And if you want to continue being treated like that then you've got to accept the responsibilities that go with it. It's your choice."

Sully opened his mouth as though to argue back but then a curious expression crossed his face and his gaze dropped to his sneakers.

"Both of you, inside now and start your homework," finished Joseph grimly as the silence remained unbroken, "and I don't want to hear a word out of either of you til dinner."


	11. Chapter 11

"Come in," called Michaela miserably in response to the light knock.

"Got someone here to see you," said Joseph, poking his head around the door. A small black nose sniffed hesitantly at the wooden door frame and before Joseph could react, a long pink tongue had run the length of the varnished beam.

"You're not supposed to eat that, you stupid mutt," laughed Joseph, pulling the puppy more securely into his arms, "You sure know how to pick them, Mike."

"He's not mine really," corrected Michaela, smiling as the puppy squirmed in her father's arms til he was released onto the carpet, "Sully's the one who found him."

"I know you two think I'm being harsh," began Joseph, as his daughter bent down to scoop the gambolling pup into her arms, "and I accept that your intentions were good. But I can't condone your behaviour. It was impulsive and irrational. I'm disappointed in you, Mike, I thought you knew better than that."

"I'm really sorry Dad," replied Michaela, burying her face in the puppy's soft fur, "I wasn't thinking. We just couldn't bear to leave Wolf all alone out there. He's so small, he would've died."

"You named a dog, "Wolf"?" queried Joseph with a broad grin.

"Sully's idea," corrected Michaela, rolling her eyes "I told him it was stupid."

"So we can keep him, can't we?" asked Michaela, raising her eyes hopefully to her father's.

"Well, I guess chewing up the door mat counts as an official inauguration into the house" chuckled Joseph as the puppy eagerly licked Michaela's ears, "so I suppose we'll have to."

"Thanks," breathed Michaela in relief, dropping Wolf back onto the floor where he immediately began gnawing on her bedroom slippers.

"You're still grounded though," added Joseph with a mock stern expression as he strolled back towards the door, "2 weeks, no parole."

"I know Dad," grinned Michaela, shaking the persistent Wolf off her slippers before turning back to her math homework.

***********************************************************************8

 **October**

"Don't do it, Michaela, it's a stupid idea."

"But it itches so much!"

"I know, but it won't work. Just leave it be."

"It's your fault I'm in this mess to start with, you know."

"Hey, I already apologised a thousand times for that. I thought the ladder was secure."

"Well, it obviously wasn't. And now I'm going crazy."

"Well, that's not my fault is it?"

"Oh great, now look what you made me do!"

"Not everything is about you, you know. There are other people in the world that are important too."

"I know that!

"Hey, where are you going?"

Michaela hastily stood up but Sully had already pulled open the front door and disappeared into the sunshine. Wolf, thinking that it was time for another walk, scampered after his owner but as the door slammed swiftly shut, he turned to glare reproachfully at Michaela.

"What was all that about?" asked Joseph, wandering into the living room, a piece of toast in his hand, "and what are you doing with a broken ruler? How many times do I have to tell you not to poke things down your cast?"

"My arm was itching," snapped Michaela, stalking to the door and pulling it open, "and I don't know why Sully's in such a grump. He's been biting my head off all week and I'm sick of it."

"Have you tried talking to him about it?" queried Joseph, shrugging into his jacket and grabbing his keys.

"Guess not," he said as he turned around, only to find the room devoid of his daughter. "Teenagers," he remarked sardonically and rolling his eyes, headed out the door.

* * *

"When you're done with those boxes, aisle five needs mopping."

"Yes, Sir," replied Sully dutifully, reaching down to grab another lot of cans from the half empty box at his feet. The shop was stuffy despite the fans that whirled languidly above his head and he caught himself thinking once again of the million other, infinitely less tedious things that he could be doing with his time. But he couldn't leave: pitiful as the money was, he needed this job. Scowling malignantly at the injustice of it all, he thrust the cans haphazardly onto the shelf, no longer bothering to turn them the right way up.

"Damn it," he hissed as a can fell from his grip and hit the floor with a loud thud.

"I got it," came a soft voice from behind him.

"Michaela," he said in mild surprise before grabbing the can from her hands and turning moodily back to his display, "what are you doing here?"

"Matthew came in to town to get parts for the car" explained Michaela quietly, following Sully's rapid movements, "he gave me a ride. He told me what happened."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked in a hurt tone, when Sully remained silent.

"Cos it doesn't make a difference now," replied Sully curtly, still avoiding her gaze.

"But surely if she just talks to him…"

"He fired her, Michaela," burst out Sully, wheeling around to glare at his best friend, "he didn't even give her a chance to explain. Do you really think he cares what she has to say?"

"But there's no way your Mom would ever steal anything," maintained Michaela fervently.

"Try telling him that," snarled Sully, shoving more tins onto the shelf with such force that it trembled, "he thinks we're just a bunch of poor, thieving…"

His sentence tailed off into a series of expletives and for once Michaela didn't have the heart to chastise him for his choice of language.

"I'm so sorry Sully," she added softly, her eyes burning with emotion.

"Yeh, so am I," sighed Sully, his anger petering out, "sorry I'm stuck here every day, but I don't have a choice. I've got to help out if I can."

"Every day," repeated Michaela, her brow furrowing, "but Sully, your music…"

"Can't afford it now," interjected Sully brusquely, his hands momentarily balling into fists.

"But it's your dream," breathed Michaela sadly.

"Dreams are great while they last Michaela," said Sully neutrally, "but some day you gotta wake up to reality."

"You better go find Matthew," he added in a final tone, "I gotta get back to work."


	12. Chapter 12

**October**

"What are you doing tonight?" asked Michaela, flipping the combination on her locker and yanking open the perpetually stiff door, "my cast's coming off this afternoon and I thought we could celebrate by carving an army of pumpkins. Dad's convinced he's the best and I think it's time we bring him down. Team effort."

"Earth to Sully," she giggled, as Sully continued to lean mutely against the lockers, arms crossed and eyes down cast, "do you read me?"

"Are you ok?" she probed worriedly when he didn't respond to her ribbing and simply moved aside as she made to thump her locker shut.

Sully nodded once in response to her query and shuffled down the corridor towards his own locker. Michaela regarded him curiously for a moment before an evil grin spread across her face. Knowing a sure fire way to get a response out of him, she snuck up behind him and snatched his baseball cap off his head.

"Mine," she laughed, waving it mockingly in front of him.

"Hey!" exclaimed Sully, instantly reaching out to snatch it back.

Michaela froze, her mouth a perfect "O" of shock. The colour in Sully's cheeks instantly rose and he dropped his hand, suddenly intensely embarrassed. For a long minute during which Michaela stared at Sully and Sully stared determinedly at the floor, neither spoke. Michaela's cheeks steadily reddened though for a very different reason and suddenly she couldn't hold out any longer.

"Your voice," she choked out before cracking up.

Scowling, Sully watched her collapse back against the lockers, clutching at her sides as she laughed before turning determinedly to the darkened innards of his locker. He had sorted out his books and started re-packing his bag when she finally calmed down enough to approach him, her cheeks flushed and her breath coming in light gasps.

"Sorry," she offered, the mirth still dancing her eyes, "it's just, you sound so odd, I couldn't help it."

"Sure," croaked Sully, rolling his eyes moodily and slamming his locker shut.

"Really, Sully," continued Michaela, shifting her books in her arms, "you could have just said. It's not like it's a big deal."

"What?!" asked Sully, stunned.

"Well," said Michaela, biting on her lip to keep from laughing, "I think it'd be pretty weird hanging out with a guy who looks sixteen and still sounds like a girl."

"Shut up," growled Sully, swinging his back pack onto his back and striding off down the corridor.

Michaela laughed openly at his retreating back before heading off in the opposite direction to her first class.

* * *

"Hey, Michaela."

Michaela, who had been concentrating on singly handedly shoving all her textbooks back into her bag, visibly jumped.

"Oh, hey, Will," she said as she recognised the dark haired boy who sat a few seats across from her, "what's up?"

"Well, I'm having a bit of trouble with some of the algebra problems," he began, fidgeting nervously with the strap of his book bag, "I was wondering if you could come over tonight and help me out?"

"I can't tonight," replied Michaela with an apologetic smile, "I'm being sawn apart."

"What?" gasped Will but Michaela just giggled and raised her plaster cast.

"Oh, right. Well, how about tomorrow? Maybe we could get a pizza or something after?"

"Sure," agreed Michaela easily, "I've got class in the morning but I'll bring my books over straight after. Is 2 ok?"

"Perfect," replied Will, a broad smile spreading across his face, "see you then."

* * *

"Where have you been?" grumbled Sully when Michaela finally emerged from the herd of rowdy students.

"I was making plans to study with a friend," she offered, swiftly unlocking her locker and shoving her books inside.

"Which friend?" asked Sully, instantly suspicious.

"Um, Will, from my math class," replied Michaela, frowning at her algebra textbook for a moment as though deciding whether to take it home or not before deciding it wasn't worth breaking her bag over and shoving it back into her locker.

"He's having some trouble with this new algebra stuff and asked me over to help out."

"And I know we were supposed to go to that movie tomorrow," she added, slamming her locker shut and turning around to face him, "but maybe we could go Sunday instead?"

"So, it's like a date?" queried Sully, who had clearly filtered out a large amount of what Michaela had just told him and was now staring at her through narrowed eyes.

"No," said Michaela firmly, "I'm just helping out a friend for a few hours, that's all."

"Michaela, he asked you over to his house," persisted Sully, folding his arms across his chest, "if he just wanted help, why not meet in the library?"

"Well," frowned Michaela, "I guess because…"

"Because it's a date," interjected Sully.

"It is _not_ a date," snapped Michaela, "so back off, Frog Prince."

And with that, she swung her bag onto her back and stalked off towards the bus stop leaving a very smug Sully to follow in her wake.

* * *

"So," asked Sully, not looking up from the sheets of music he was perusing, "what'd she say?"

"She said it's a date," conceded Michaela miserably, throwing the phone onto the bed and slumped down onto the floor. Sully had continued to plague her with comments about her forthcoming study session all the way home until out of sheer annoyance and determination to prove him wrong, she had decided to call Becky and get her opinion. Her sister's answer when she had stopped laughing had not been what she had been expecting.

"I can't believe it," moaned Michaela in response to Sully's quiet "Told ya so."

"Someone finally asks me out and I don't even realise it."

"To be fair," offered Sully, "I don't think you missed much."

"Oh shut up," muttered Michaela, dropping her head into her hands, "like you're such a Casanova."

Scowling as Sully just laughed good naturedly, she heaved herself off the floor and padded over to the closet.

"Hey, that doesn't sound half bad," she said after a moment as a perfect symphony of notes filled her room.

"Mmmm" was Sully's articulate response; he was already furiously jotting down the chord. Michaela rolled her eyes and cast her attention to the darkened shelves. Ever since she had presented Sully with the brand new Fender, a birthday gift from the Cooper-Quinn clan, he had spent every waking moment reading, writing and practising. After one memorable English class when Sully had zoned out and then promptly blurted out that Cleopatra's famous lover was in fact Allegro, Michaela had joked that he even dreamed in music.

"So," she asked several minutes later as she emerged from behind the painted screen she'd forced Joseph to buy from a flea market in Denver, "what d'you think?"

"Huh?" offered Sully confusedly, looking up reluctantly from his beloved guitar strings.

"For tomorrow," explained Michaela, a light blush colouring her cheeks as she plucked nervously at the denim skirt she'd chosen.

"I thought it wasn't a date," challenged Sully, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin.

"It's not," retorted Michaela acidly, "but all your stupid comments have made me all nervous now. I don't want to give him the wrong idea."

"Sure," chuckled Sully, "cos that skirt yells study group."

"Fine," snapped Michaela, disappearing behind the screen again before Sully could see how hurt she was, "forget I asked."

"Calm down," laughed Sully, "I'm just kidding. Why don't you quit trying so hard? Just wear your jeans."

"Really?" queried Michaela, peering out worriedly from behind the screen.

"Sure," assured Sully, frowning at a particularly complicated composition, "guys don't really notice what girls wear anyway. We just pretend to."

"Ok," giggled Michaela, "then I guess I'll just wear this."

Sully glanced up and his eyes widened. She had chosen her favourite black top, the one with the Green Day lyrics scrawled across the front. He'd seen her wear it a thousand times but he didn't remember it ever looking quite like this. Months of dancing had transformed Michaela's boyish, gangly frame into a slender and elegant one. She held herself taller and over the summer, her body had filled out, turning her awkward angles into curves. Curves that the top she'd picked were now accentuating perfectly.

"Umm," he began, suddenly embarrassed, "I don't think you should wear that."

"Why?" asked Michaela, moving to the mirror and staring at her reflection in confusion, "it looks fine."

"So," she continued in a low voice, scooping her hair up into its habitual, business like pony tail, "hair up or down?"

"Definitely up," commented Sully curtly before bending hastily over the desk so she couldn't see his scowl. No longer seeing the sheets before him, he growled quietly, "We wouldn't want to give him the wrong idea."

* * *

"I hate boys," snapped Michaela, slamming the front door.

"Hey!" protested Joseph in mock indignation, "what did we do wrong now?"

"I take it the study session went well then," he added with a grin as Michaela flung herself into an armchair. Michaela scowled malignantly.

"Is it actually impossible for you to focus for more than five seconds on anything that isn't about dating or food?"

"He's a teenage boy, Mike," laughed Joseph, "what did you expect? Political debates?"

"Very funny," replied Michaela acidly. "I can't believe I was stupid enough to fall for his lie. Algebra my ass. Well, I won't be making _that_ mistake again."

"Language, Mike," reproved Joseph with a slight frown, before casting a sympathetic glance at his fuming daughter. "I know you're upset, but don't be too quick to judge everyone because of the actions of one immature boy."

"Sully was right," continued Michaela grudgingly, "I should have listened to him."

"You were just trying to help out a friend," replied Joseph reasonably, "you couldn't have known he'd misinterpret that."

"Well I doubt he'll be trying to kiss me again any time soon," muttered Michaela darkly before heaving herself out of her chair and heading towards the stairs, "I'm going to study."

"Mike, what did you do?" queried Joseph, suddenly worried.

"Nothing," stated Michaela before adding in a low undertone, "much."


	13. Chapter 13

"Are you ok?" queried Sully, as Michaela stared unseeingly at the table, her lunch untouched before her, "you like kinda green."

The festive spirit had finally infiltrated the school corridors and all around them, students were chatting excitedly about their plans for the Christmas holidays. Michaela had initially approved of Sully's idea to go ice skating at the weekend, eager to get out into the two feet of powdery snow that had deluged the town overnight and turned the lakes into natural rinks. But as Sully had continued to discuss the finer details of his plan, she had grown quieter, a grimace pulling her brows together.

"My stomach feels weird," she admitted, wrapping her arms around her middle, "kinda squishy."

"Maybe you ate something off," suggested Sully, chewing thoughtfully on his apple.

"Maybe," mused Michaela, "I can't think what though…"

The remainder of her words were abruptly drowned out by the shrill ringing of the bell. With a sigh, she shoved her uneaten sandwich and the can of coke back into her bag.

"You sure you're ok?" asked Sully worriedly as the action of swinging her bag onto her back made Michaela wince, "you could always skip class and go home early?"

"I'm fine," assured Michaela, steeling her features into a grim expression, "I'll see you later."

* * *

"Where were you?" began Sully accusingly, rising from his position on the front porch where he had been waiting for the last half an hour, "I've been waiting for you for ages."

"Sorry," offered Michaela quietly, rummaging in her bag for her house keys.

"You went shopping?" continued Sully angrily, spying the brown paper bag clutched in her hand, "you ditched me to go shopping?"

"I didn't ditch you," corrected Michaela, her temper starting to rise as she struggled with the temperamental lock, "I just had something important to do."

"Really?" queried Sully incredulously, folding his arms across his chest, "like what?"

"Forget it," snapped Michaela, finally getting the door open, "you wouldn't understand."

"Just go home, Sully," she finished, inexplicable tears filling her eyes.

"But Michaela…" protested Sully, but the door had already slammed shut.

Michaela didn't wait to hear him curse furiously or storm off down the street. Grabbing the phone off its cradle, she hurtled up the stairs, two at a time. Locking the bathroom door, she slid miserably onto the floor, her fingers shaking as she dialled the familiar number.

"Mom," she croaked out, tears now falling fast on her cheeks as the line connected, "I want to come home."

* * *

"Mike? Are you in there?" queried Joseph, tapping low at the door.

"Go away!" came the instant response.

"Your mother called me and told me what happened," he continued gently, "it's ok. I'm a doctor remember? I see this all the time."

"Just leave me alone, ok?" replied Michaela angrily, the horror clearly audible in her voice.

"Michaela," began Joseph after several minutes of tense silence during which the door remained resolutely shut, "maybe you should go home. You're growing up and you need a woman around. Someone you can talk to about these things. I…"

A moment later the door opened.

"You want me to go away?" stammered Michaela, her blood shot eyes widening in dismay.

"Of course I don't," assured Joseph, as he surveyed his daughter's bedraggled appearance and tear stained cheeks, "I love having you here. But maybe it'd be for the best. I mean, I'm no expert on all this girl stuff."

"It's ok, Dad," offered Michaela, averting her eyes to the floor, "I don't mind."

"I just want you to be happy," he added quietly, "and if that means you going off to Boston to be with your mom, then that's fine with me."

"I'm happy here, Dad," replied Michaela, picking nervously at her sleeve, "I don't want to move."

"If you're sure," began Joseph but Michaela quickly nodded her head.

"Well," he continued lightly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, "if you wanna wash up, I've ordered dinner. Chinese sound ok?"

"Sure," agreed Michaela quietly.

"Hey, Dad," she called as Joseph headed off towards the stairs, "do you mind if I ask Sully over? I have some apologising to do."

"The human hoover?" chuckled Joseph, shaking his head wryly and pulling out his cell phone, "We're definitely going to need more food."


	14. Chapter 14

_*****As the last chapter was so short, here's another :) *****_

 **January**

Sully drummed his pen idly against the open text book. It was Monday morning and he was already bored. Beside him, Michaela was paying such close attention to the tedious subject material now being inflicted upon them that she hadn't even turned around to glare at him yet. Snorting at the expression of deep interest on her face, he flipped open his notebook and turned to the latest composition he had been working on. He had spent the better part of the Christmas vacation mulling over the chords and last night, he had finally put pen to paper. His inspiration had come from an unlikely source. When Michaela had delightedly announced that she would dancing in the ballet school's production of The Nutcracker and presented him with two tickets, he had flat out refused to go. As content as he usually was to go along with the vast majority of Michaela's hair brain ideas, he absolutely drew the line at tights and tutus. To his horror, however, his mother had graciously accepted the offer and Christmas Eve had found a very disgruntled Sully, formally attired with clean, brushed hair, being escorted to a seat in the middle of the packed out pavilion. Though he'd rather die than admit it to Michaela, the production hadn't actually been as dull as he had anticipated. True, he had been unable to suppress a snigger when the very young Sugar Plum Fairy had unfortunately slipped during her solo performance but the music had been flawless and he'd found his mind filled with the elaborate pieces for days afterwards.

A loud scuffle broke through his concentration and as the classroom door suddenly opened, twenty pairs of eyes turned towards the unexpected noise. Mrs White, the headmaster's middle aged PA, bustled importantly to the front of the class and oblivious to the keen interest of all the students, muttered a hurried explanation to the bewildered science teacher. His brow furrowed but before he could comment further, Mrs White had called out in a clear voice.

"Michaela Quinn, if you could come with me please."

Michaela turned in her seat to gape at Sully. She couldn't think of any possible reason why the head would want to see her and for several moments she remained frozen in her seat. Only when Mrs White repeated impatiently, "Now, Ms Quinn," did she slide out from behind the lab bench and walk slowly to the front. Murmuring a quick apology to no one in particular, Mrs White led Michaela quickly to the door and as soon as it closed shut behind them, she slipped an arm around her shoulders. Utterly bewildered, Michaela turned to glance back through the glass door. Sully's expression however, as he followed her progress down the hall, was as baffled as her own.

* * *

"Mrs Cooper," exclaimed Michaela in surprise as she recognised the sole occupant of the headmaster's office, "what are you doing here?"

"Hello Michaela," replied Charlotte, her habitually calm voice hitching slightly, "come and sit down, honey."

"What's going on?" asked Michaela suspiciously, taking a seat beside Charlotte, "is something wrong."

"It's about Joseph," began Charlotte, reaching out to take Michaela's hands in hers.

"Dad?" queried Michaela, instantly worried, "what happened? Is he ok?"

"There was an accident," continued Charlotte, tears now brightening her warm, brown eyes, "black ice. Your dad lost control of the car, ended up in a ditch off highway 28."

"But, but he's ok, right," stammered Michaela, "I mean, he's tough. He never even gets a cold."

"He's in the ICU right now," replied Charlotte, her attempt at keeping it together breaking down completely as she added, "but it's not looking good."

* * *

Michaela sat ram rod straight in her seat as the crowds swelled around her, heading out into the watery sunshine. In an almost dream like daze, she followed the track of the dust motes glittering in the shaft of coloured light that filtered through the stained glass windows and cast intricate patterns over the altar. Her whole body seemed have frozen up during the ceremony, her features assuming an increasingly carven quality with each touching eulogy, her thoughts skittering away from her pathetic attempts to reign them in. Even the starched fabric of the sombre black dress rubbing against her bare skin and the pinch of the new pumps barely caught her attention.

"Michaela," began a voice softly beside her, "it's time to go."

Blindly following the gentle pressure under her elbow, she allowed herself to be drawn from her seat towards the door. Her feet stumbled over the slabbed aisle and an arm immediately slipped itself around her waist, drawing her close.

"I can't do this," she whispered brokenly, pressing her head into the solid shoulder supporting her, "I don't know how to say goodbye."

"I don't either," he replied, his voice cracking with grief, "it just doesn't seem real."

"How can I even carry on without him?"

Turning her pleading, tear filled eyes upwards, Sully felt his resolve weaken. A lone tear tracked its way down his cheek and he exhaled shakily, his gaze drifting to the huddle of mourners gathering in the furthest corner of the small cemetery. Marjorie's fiery hair was clearly distinguishable even at this distance.

"We'll find a way together," he finally replied quietly, reaching down to knot their fingers together tightly, "I'm not going anywhere."

* * *

 **February**

"I'm putting the Austen in with the Shakespeare. I know you'll say its mixing genres and there's no way Shakespeare would have put up with Austen's whining under any circumstances but I don't care. The bard is just gunna have to suck it up and deal with a female roommate, at least until you get to Boston.

"Michaela," continued Sully, when the silence following his disgruntled spiel remained unbroken, "did you hear what I said?"

"Michaela?" he repeated quietly, approaching the window.

She was curled up on the window seat, staring unseeingly out at the icy yard. Wolf, who had now grown so much that he spilled out of her lap onto the sill like a giant furry rug, gave a little yelp of acknowledgment before nudging his cold, wet nose against Michaela's arm.

"Hey!" exclaimed Michaela, turning back towards the room, "I already took a shower today, thanks."

Wolf yawned unapologetically and blithely ignoring both his owners, padded swiftly out of the room in search of lunch.

"You ok?" queried Sully, his brow furrowing in concern.

"Sure," replied Michaela in the resigned way she always did when someone asked her how she was doing. "I just wish I didn't have to go."

"I know," replied Sully sadly, "I wish you didn't either. I'm really gunna miss you."

They had tried everything to change Elizabeth's mind. Even Sully's mother, knowing how close the two kids were, had offered to let Michaela stay with them, at least until the school year was through. Elizabeth however, had already spent a good part of a month sorting out Joseph's various assets and could not be away from Boston any longer. She was going home and taking her daughter with her.

"Spring breaks not so far away," reasoned Sully, trying to raise her spirits, "I bet if I take on some extra shifts between now and then I could save enough money to come visit."

"Maybe," conceded Michaela miserably, though without any real conviction.

"Hey, I got you something," continued Sully, his tone lightening as he reached into his rucksack, "it's for your birthday."

"My birthday is still a week away," pointed out Michaela quietly, "and anyway I don't feel like celebrating this year."

"Go on," urged Sully, thrusting the wrapped package into her hands, "open it. Your dad helped me pick it out."

"My dad?" breathed Michaela, her eyes instantly lightening as she grabbed the slim parcel.

"That was some of my best work!" protested Sully, mock glaring at the sea of wrapping paper that now covered the floor. Michaela's attention however was focused on the thin black box she had just unearthed.

"Your dad said the best way to a woman's heart was to make her breakfast. Then do the washing up" continued Sully in a suddenly solemn tone.

"Yeah, right," choked out Michaela, her face breaking into the first smile she had worn in weeks.

"He said you'd say that," laughed Sully, "so he said I should get this as a back up."

"It's beautiful," murmured Michaela, fingering the intricate design, "I almost don't want to wear it."

"Hey, I mopped way too many floors for that bracelet to just be kept in a box" retorted Sully, before grinning at the expression on his best friends face.

"Just don't forget about me when you get to Boston and your big fancy school."

"No way," affirmed Michaela, shaking her head, "we'll always be best friends, Sully, no matter what."

"Ok, enough sappy talk," replied Sully, nudging Michaela's shoulder playfully, "now can you please come and help me pack up this insane library of yours? My back is killing me already."

"Sure" giggled Michaela, wandering over to the half empty book shelf.

"Wait a second," she began, pausing by a large box and turning back to glare at Sully, "did you say you put the Austen in with the Shakespeare? Are you nuts? Have you learnt nothing in the last two years? I'm going to have to start all over again!"

"I'm never getting out of here," moaned Sully, as books flew out of the box he had spent the last hour so carefully packing and crashed pell mell onto the floor.


	15. Chapter 15

June:

" _I'm sorry the person you are calling is not available. Please leave a message after the tone."_

"Ugh, not again" grumbled Michaela, shifting her book bag in a vain attempt to stop the strap biting into her shoulder.

"Sully, it's me," she continued impatiently after the prolonged beep, "I don't know where you are or why you have been ignoring my calls and messages for the last two days. But I'm fed up of trying to reach you. So as of now, I'm giving up. I'll be home all weekend if you feel like calling me back.

"Oh and change your voicemail message," she snapped, "this one is lame and annoying."

With a scowl, Michaela flipped the cell phone shut and muttering angrily about unreliable boys, she made her way out into the forecourt.

"Hey, private school girl."

The familiar voice made her whirl round in surprise.

"Sully?" she breathed as she spotted him leaning against a rather ugly stone figurine flanking the front gate, "what are you doing here?"

"I came to see you of course, surprise!" replied Sully happily, shoving his hands into jeans, "plus I couldn't miss the wedding of the century."

"I've been trying to reach you for days." continued Michaela shortly, some of her previous ire bubbling back up,

"Left me another message did you?" grinned Sully, pulling out his phone. "Was it mean?"

"Well, I was upset," mumbled Michaela, shifting uncomfortably.

"It was mean," laughed Sully, as he listened intently to the bitter diatribe on his voicemail, "I'll add it to the collection."

"Coffee?" he suggested as Michaela blushed three shades of red.

"Yes, please," replied Michaela gratefully, "this week's been insane. I'm completely exhausted."

Suddenly becoming aware of the curious glances being cast in their direction by her fellow class mates, Michaela quickly grabbed Sully's arm and steered him towards the gate.

"Friends of yours?" teased Sully as a group of girls began heading towards them, their intent obvious.

"Those girls are not your type," muttered Michaela, "trust me."

"And you know what my type is?" queried Sully, as they made their way swiftly down the street and in the direction of Michaela's favourite coffee house.

"For all you know I might really like posh girls in pleated skirts and blazers."

"Yeah, sure, Sully," giggled Michaela, "hey, maybe if you learn to french braid hair and paint your nails, they'll invite you to their next slumber party."

"Hey!" exclaimed Michaela, laughing, as Sully escaped through the open door of the coffee house and left it to swing back in her face, "cut it out."

The coffee house was busy but months of practice had honed Michaela's table nabbing skills and she managed to secure a small table by the window whilst Sully ordered.

"So, I thought you said you weren't going to be able to make it to the wedding," began Michaela, casually stirring several heaped teaspoonfuls of sugar into her coffee cup.

"I wasn't," replied Sully, "but I managed to pull a few strings and shifted some work days around and well, here I am."

"What about school?"

"Sorted," assured Sully, "my mum's cool with me missing a few days off school. Though if anyone asks, I'm home with mono."

"Mono?" giggled Michaela, "very original."

"Well, it's a classic," replied Sully solemnly. "So, how's the wedding planning coming?"

"A nightmare," groaned Michaela. "It's a really good thing Becky is here and managing to keep everyone calm, otherwise I think Mum would have murdered Marjorie by now. Everything's such a big drama; the flowers, the cake, the linens. I swear, when it's my turn to get married, I'm just going to elope."

"What about the guy," queried Sully, "doesn't he get a say in it?"

"Nope," continued Michaela cheerfully, "he's marrying me. Isn't that enough?"

"Duly noted," chuckled Sully, pushing the sugar bowl safely out of Michaela's reach.

"Wake up, you're going to be late."

"Go away," moaned Sully, "its 7am and the wedding's not til 2. I don't need to be up for at least another 3 hours."

The last three days had passed by in a blur of tulle and floral decorations and Sully, who had barely clocked three hours sleep a night since his arrival in the Quinn home, was starting to regret his decision to visit in time for the wedding.

"Nice try," called Michaela from the door, "Mum's already in full blown panic mode so if you want to survive to see tomorrow, I suggest you get up and out of the way, pronto."

"I think I'm starting to see the advantage of eloping," grumbled Sully, pulling the blanket over his head as the sound of yet another heated discussion filtered down the stairs towards the sofa bed.

"Told you so," laughed Michaela as she continued on towards the kitchen and breakfast.

One o'clock found the Quinn residence filled to bursting point. Elizabeth had initially pushed hard for a church wedding. Though not desperately religious, she had married Joseph in church and felt that it was the right thing to do. Marjorie however, was dead set against the idea and was desperate to have a fancy, Hollywood-esque hotel affair that would undoubtedly have cost about the same as a new car. Four heated arguments and three bouts of tears later, they had finally agreed to have the entire wedding at home. The beautifully landscaped garden would be a perfect setting for the ceremony and the large marquee they had rented could easily accommodate the thirty or so guests that had been invited to the reception. Unfortunately, the garden could only be accessed through the house thus the hallway had become a minefield of poles and cables as the photographers struggled to set up their equipment whilst negotiating around the mob of guests fighting their way to the best seats.

"Hey, Billy," called Sully as he jumped deftly over a trailing cable and made his way to the front door, "all set for the big day?"

"Sure," replied the groom-to-be, nervously fingering his shirt collar. "So, they didn't manage to get you to agree to the three piece suit, huh?"

"They tried," shrugged Sully, "but the airline just happened to lose my bag that had the waistcoat and tie in."

"No kidding," laughed Billy with a knowing look, "what are the odds of that happening?"

"Fate can be a cruel, cruel thing," mused Sully with an expression of mock dejection.

"Hey, here comes your date," teased Billy as he spotted Michaela picking her way across the hallway towards them.

"She's not my…"

"Yeah, yeah I know," interposed Billy with a smirk, "you're "just friends". Well, I'm outta here. Enjoy the wedding."

And with a nod in the direction of his future sister in law, he headed off towards the patio and make shift bar stand.

"You look great," offered Sully, as Michaela finally made it to his side.

"I can't walk in these shoes," grumbled Michaela, glaring down at the pink, satin heels she had been forced into wearing, "and my toes are all squished up. Trust Marjorie to pick shoes that will impede my ability to walk for the next two weeks."

"Well, we all have our crosses to bear," teased Sully, leaning back against the wall as a photographer with an oversized lamp struggled past, "I, for example, have to deal with wearing the most comfortable shoes I own."

"Stop rubbing it in," snapped Michaela, pulling off her right shoe and massaging her toes, "I wish I was a boy. Then I wouldn't have to deal with any of this nonsense."

"Coming through!"

Michaela barely had time to look up as the vast canvas screen caught her left side and she was knocked sideways into the patio door. The door burst open at the unexpected weight and with a strangled cry, she thrust her hands out in front of her to break her fall. The shock however had slowed her reaction time and the paving stones seemingly flew up to meet her right side with a dull crunch.

"Michaela!" yelped Sully, jumping deftly through the open door to help her up.

"My dress," whimpered Michaela, "is it ok? Marjorie will kill me if I ruin her big day."

"Forget the dress a minute," replied Sully, choking down the desire to laugh, "are you ok?"

Reaching out to grab Sully's hand, Michaela bit back a grimace.

"My wrist," she ground out, "hurts like hell."

"Do you think it's broken?" queried Sully, probing the bones uncertainly as though hoping a fracture would suddenly jump out and reveal itself.

"I don't know," replied Michaela, her brows drawing together as she considered the possibility, "but we can't do anything about it now. The ceremony is starting any minute.

"Oh man," she continued, patting her head, "my hair! It feels like a bird's nest."

"No bird I know makes a nest like that," chuckled Sully, unfazed as always by the turn of events.

"What can I do to help?" he hastily amended, as Michaela turned to glare menacingly at him.

"There's an icepack in the freezer and bandages in the last cupboard," directed Michaela, as she picked her way towards the staircase, "bring your wrapping skills."

"Here, I snagged us these," murmured Sully quietly, gently steering Michaela away from the crowded marquee and into a darkened corner of the garden.

"Champagne?"

Michaela's eyes widened, as she accepted the sparkling crystal flute.

"I didn't think that was your style."

"Well they were fresh outta Bourbon," replied Sully dryly. "Just try it ok?"

"On the count of three?" suggested Michaela, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure," agreed Sully with a grin.

"One…

"Two….

"Three…

"Ugh!" burst out Michaela, wiping her hand across her mouth, "how can people drink this stuff?"

"It smells like that nail polish remover stuff," added Sully with a grimace, "and tastes even worse. Like lemons gone really bad.

"Thankfully, I also got us some of these," he continued, pulling two small chocolates out of his jacket pocket. "They'll drown out the taste."

"That's more like it," giggled Michaela, her eyes visibly gleaming in the darkness.

"Your wrist hurt?" mumbled Sully around a mouthful of chocolate.

"A dull ache," conceded Michaela grumpily as she continued to struggle with the foil wrapping.

"Maybe you best give it a rest," offered Sully, deftly rescuing the chocolate and sliding open the wrapping.

"Thanks…" began Michaela, "hey! That's'mine!"

"Sorry," chuckled Sully as he swallowed loudly, "I just couldn't resist."

Michaela threw a malignant scowl in his direction and leaned back against the wall, folding her arms across her chest. Her eyes drifted towards the makeshift dance floor where Marjorie and Billy were spinning slowly to a simpering romantic number; Marjorie had clearly vetoed the music list.

Sully caught her quiet sigh and turned to frown at her tortured expression.

"You're not reciting the periodic table in your head again are you?" he queried quietly, "you've got that Frieda Kahlo monobrow thing going on again."

"What's wrong?" he added, gently tugging her sleeve as Michaela merely shrugged off his comment.

"I dunno," whispered Michaela, "I guess I was thinking about when it's my turn. You know, someday, far away from now. I always thought my dad would be the one to give me away. To be there to hold my hand and make sure I didn't trip over my dress, to dance the last dance with me.

"It's stupid," she finished briskly, shaking her head as though to dismiss her thoughts before turning back to meet Sully's gaze, "I'm fine. Forget I said anything."

Sully stared thoughtfully at her for several minutes before grinning slightly and extending his hand.

"Would you do me the honour, Ms Quinn, of dancing the last dance with me?"

"Be serious, Sully," laughed Michaela, as Sully inclined his head in a mock bow, "Since when do you dance?"

"Well," replied Sully seriously as he reached out to place Michaela's good hand on his shoulder, "I've been taking lessons from a pro."

"Alice and Lily," he explained with a wide grin as he gently grasped Michaela's bandaged fingers.

"I miss them," giggled Michaela, as she allowed Sully to spin them slowly on the spot.

"For a moment there, I thought you were going to say Katy," she added slyly.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" replied Sully, hanging his head in resignation.

"Nope," laughed Michaela, her eyes dancing with mirth.

"Least I had a date though," smirked Sully smugly, gazing pointedly at Michaela.

"Ouch, that's cold," retorted Michaela, biting back a smile.

"Just callin' it like I see it," chuckled Sully.

"I wish you didn't have to go back," added Michaela quietly, as the sounds of raucous cheering that signalled the end of the party issued from the marquee and arrested their steps, "I'll miss you."

"Next time you come home, we'll go to a real party," promised Sully with a grin, "and you can wear whatever shoes you want."

"Deal" agreed Michaela, as she kicked off the offending heels and with a gleeful cackle, lobbed them cleanly into the miniature fountain.


	16. Chapter 16

**January:**

Michaela yawned widely and snuggled down further in her fleecy blanket. Wolf had curled up next to her like a giant, furry rug and she could feel her eyes drifting closed. It was very cosy, lazing by the fire as the bitter wind continued to pound against the window pane and hurl the soft snowy mounds into deceptively deep drifts. Michaela had plunged unsuspectingly into just such a drift earlier that morning and had since refused to move from her position by the fire in protest.

"Don't get too comfy, we're going out in a few."

The familiar voice broke the comfortable silence and Michaela propped herself up her elbow to glare at the doorway.

"I beg your pardon," she began icily, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Well I promised you I'd take you to a decent party didn't I?" replied Sully with a mischievous grin, "so that's what we're gunna do."

"A party?" exclaimed Michaela, the blanket falling off her as she sat up and gestured to the window, "it's like the Arctic out there! I wouldn't be surprised if there were glaciers relaxing on the front porch."

"Nice pyjamas" teased Sully as he took in her unusual ensemble, "they big on grunge music at Harvard?"

"Shut up," snapped Michaela with a scowl down at the bottoms she had thrown on under her Harvard sweatshirt, "it was either these or your "lakers girls rock" ones."

"They didn't appeal to you?" queried Sully, in a tone of mock horror.

"Not so much," retorted Michaela dryly as she grabbed the blanket again and draped it over the offending pyjamas.

"So are you serious about this party?"

"Sure," replied Sully easily, "and don't worry, the porch is glacier free. The band is playing, so I gotta go."

"Wait…you're in a band?" gaped Michaela, as his words sunk in, "how…when….how do I not know about this?"

"Oh, I dunno," chuckled Sully. "If you didn't insist on hogging all the phone time we ever get with endless questions about calculus, maybe I would have had a chance to mention it!"

"Not all of us are freakishly gifted with numbers," grumbled Michaela, but Sully headed her off before she could get too waspish.

"We just started playing a few weeks ago," he explained quickly, "tonight's our first real gig. I figured you wouldn't wanna miss it."

"Course I don't," confirmed Michaela instantly, "I wouldn't miss it for the world.

"Whatever will I wear," she added with a wide grin.

* * *

The music vibrated around the room, seemingly bouncing off the walls and the throng of teenagers to rise into a heavy haze above them. Michaela felt the beats ripple through her and against her will, she felt her body start to move in time to the beat. Ordinarily, she would have been far too self conscious to even consider dancing at a party where she barely knew anyone but as the tempo increased, the room seemed to fade away; she was consumed and mastered by the notes and she had no option but to yield.

Sully drifted through the crush of bodies and finally broke through into a free space by the door. He lifted himself up and scanned the sea of faces, looking for any sign of her. She was so small that she tended to simply get swallowed up by a crowd, even when that crowd wasn't constantly shifting, like the ebb and flow of some great tide. A sudden flash of copper caught his eye and he turned quickly, his eyes widening in shock.

She had stripped off her chunky, crimson sweater to reveal a shimmering, black tank top that clung to her figure and accentuated the pale limbs twisting at her side. Her short skirt flared up around her as she spun in time to the music, the scarlet belt catching and fixing his gaze. He had always known that Michaela was pretty, even beautiful when she wasn't glaring at him. She, however, had always been so blissfully unaware of that fact and not to mention completely repelled by the few boys she'd encountered, that he had never really felt worried. Yet as he registered the number of glances cast in her direction, their intent clear, his eyes narrowed; he would have to take decisive action.

Pushing past the familiar faces, he finally made it to her side and slung his arm around her shoulder, instantly stilling her movements.

"I got you a drink," he shouted over the din, pointing at the bottles in his hand and a gesturing away from chaotic hub of the party.

Michaela nodded, smiling broadly and followed Sully's lead out the back door and into the frozen yard.

* * *

The piercing gusts were welcome after the heated crush inside and Michaela closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

"Drink?" queried Sully, drawing his eyes forcibly away from the strands that had come loose from her messy chignon and were now clinging to the flushed nape of her neck.

"Yes, please," agreed Michaela eagerly, reaching out for a bottle. "Wait, is that beer?"

"Don't worry," laughed Sully, holding out the smaller of the two, "I got you a coke."

"You're not really going to drink that?" asked Michaela in horror.

"Sure I am," replied Sully with a grin, "watch me."

Her brows pulled together as Sully flipped the top off and took a deep swig from the bottle. It seemed to take him an age to swallow. She watched as the column of his throat shook with barely supressed laughter and for a moment, she was entirely distracted. Her frown deepened as her gaze trailed down the dark shadow of his throat to his shoulder and then the curve of his arm. Sully had always been slight, gangly even. Yet with a jolt, she realised that his arm was easily double the size of hers. His frame had filled out and his hair now waved just above his shoulders, the honeyed streaks accentuating the cobalt tint to his eyes. He looked less like the boy she had chased around Charlotte's yard and more like a man; when had that happened?

"Relax," chuckled Sully, misinterpreting her searching glance, "I barely had a sip. We best get back inside, before you become a human snow man."

"Snow woman, technically," corrected Michaela quickly as she glanced down at her arms. The frigid temperature had raised goose bumps on her bare skin and despite the warmth radiating from her cheeks, a sudden shiver ran through her.

"Whatever," laughed Sully good naturedly, nudging her shoulder, "let's go."


	17. Chapter 17

**August:**

"I'm in love," sighed Michaela softly, as she nestled further into the cushions.

"Oh please," grumbled Sully, glancing up from his magazine to cast a disdainful glance at the screen, "not the wet shirt thing again."

"Mr Darcy happens to be a deeply complex character," countered Michaela, without withdrawing her gaze, "The development of his relationship with Elizabeth is a literary masterpiece."

Sully just rolled his eyes, murmuring something that sounded very much like "girls" under his breath.

Due to an unfortunate turn of events, it had been seven long months before the friends had finally been reunited. Sully had come down with a nasty bout of the flu at the end of March and Michaela, unwilling to run the risk of being infected herself, had flat out refused to visit the site of the contagion. So Sully had spent the best part of spring break in bed, downing nytol and generally bemoaning his existence. Michaela had dismissed him as a total wimp and simply buried herself in her studies. She had emerged triumphantly at the end of June with the news that she had finished top in her class. Elizabeth had rewarded her efforts that evening with a return ticket to Colorado Springs.

"Why so touchy?" broached Michaela, hitting the pause button as the credits started to roll across the scene and turning to look at Sully, "is everything ok?"

"Sure," replied Sully, his expression suddenly uneasy.

"What is it?" she queried, her eyes widening in concern.

"Well, it's just that I have to go out for a bit, tonight," began Sully slowly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat and avoiding the gaze he could feel burning into his face.

"Ok," said Michaela quickly, "I'll come with you. Maybe we could go for ice cream…"

"No," interrupted Sully firmly, "you can't come with me."

"Why not?" retorted Michaela, her eyes narrowing as her temper started to rise, "is it like a boy's only thing?"

"No," growled Sully, scowling at her, "it's like a date thing."

"A date?" laughed Michaela suddenly, all traces of anger dissipating from her features, "well, you could have just said so."

"You're not mad?" breathed Sully in surprise.

"Mad that you didn't tell me you had a girlfriend or mad that I've lost my bet with Becky that you would remain celibate forever?"

"Very funny," replied Sully dryly, as his best friend cackled uncontrollably beside him.

"So who is she?" hiccupped Michaela, when she could finally breathe again, "anyone I know?"

"D'you remember Abby, Abby Bray from third period English?"

"Abby," repeated Michaela slowly, her brow furrowing in thought, "sat at the back, dark hair, kinda nerdy looking?"

"She's not nerdy looking," corrected Sully hotly before he registered Michaela's devilish expression and rolled his eyes.

"Besides you're not exactly in a position to talk, Geek-aela."

"I have fully embraced my geekiness," grinned Michaela, wrapping her arms around her knees. "So where are you taking her?"

"Movies," replied Sully, "maybe ice cream after."

"Bring me back a scoop of chocolate."

"Sure," conceded Sully with a grin.

"What about you," he queried, fixing Michaela with a speculative gaze, "anyone sniffing around?"

"Aside from Wolf?" grinned Michaela as the dog padded over from his basket and promptly thrust his nose into her side.

"No. And besides, seeing as I'm stuck in a convent," continued Michaela blandly, "dating at my school would involve a serious life choice."

"There are boys outside of school, you know," suggested Sully patiently, ignoring her jibes.

"I'm too busy for all that right now," replied Michaela briskly, "once I get into Harvard and make it through my internship, then I'll start worrying about dating."

"All the boys will be wrinkled and grey by then," joked Sully.

"I'm not averse to a few wrinkles," mused Michaela, "older men are more mature anyway, much easier to please."

"Not like that," she amended hastily as Sully made an odd choking noise beside her, "can't you keep your mind out of the gutter for five minutes together?"

"You said it," chuckled Sully, "not me."

"What a catch you are," retorted Michaela acidly, "does Abby know that's what you've got on your mind for tonight?"

With a satisfied smirk at Sully's stunned expression, she promptly lay back down on the cushions and pressed the play button, effectively ending any further conversation.

* * *

"What time do you call this?"

The deeply disapproving voice broke through the darkness and halted his steps as he tried to sneak up the stairs. The side lamp clicked on and he instantly recognised the tousled, brown hair. She had waited up for him.

"So, how did it go?," she queried, eyeing him owlishly from under the knitted blanket as he shoved Wolf unceremoniously off her feet and slumped down on the sofa beside her.

"Fine," replied Sully, yawning widely, "good."

"Fine?" teased Michaela, raising herself up on her elbow, "you were out til midnight. That's gotta be better than fine."

"I dropped Abby off early," explained Sully quietly, "I just needed to get some air."

"So, was it a perfect first date?" persisted Michaela, nudging his thigh with her toes. "Abby's great," conceded Sully with a small smile, "that's all you need to know."

"So did you kiss her goodnight this time?"

"Who are you," groaned Sully, "the Date Police?

"And yes," he added as she continued to stare expectantly at him, "I did kiss her goodnight."

"And?" pressed Michaela, sitting up fully now to monitor his expression, "how was it?"

"Minty," confessed Sully finally, with a sheepish grin, "think she overdid the mouth wash."

"Minty," broke out Michaela as she fought back a fit of giggles, "honestly Sully, you're hopeless."

"Hey," protested Sully, somewhat nettled, "it's not like these things come with an instruction manual.

"Maybe next time," he continued sarcastically, "I'll just practise on you before I leave and you can give me marks out of 10."

When several moments of silence followed this last comment, his eyes which had slid shut out of sheer frustration, flashed up curiously to observe Michaela, who was apparently lost in thought.

"I was kidding," offered Sully a tad contritely, "I didn't mean to…"

"I've made up my mind," interrupted Michaela suddenly.

"About what?" queried Sully slowly, shifting on the sofa and observing her face closely.

"I want you to kiss me," continued Michaela flatly, as though he hadn't spoken.

"What?" exclaimed Sully, his eyes widening in shock, "you can't be serious!"

"I'm dead serious," explained Michaela, shaking her hair back from her face and sitting up straighter in her seat.

"Since you didn't have the decency to buy me a present for my birthday this year, this is what I would like. I would like for you to kiss me. Now.

"Frankly," she continued, blithely ignoring the fact that Sully's mouth was now hanging open in sheer disbelief, "I just want to see what all the fuss is about. And I'd rather my first kiss be with my best friend than anyone else."

At this, she raised her gaze to Sully's, her hazel eyes burning into his with fierce determination.

Sully swallowed hard several times before beginning quietly, "Are you sure about this?"

"Absolutely," confirmed Michaela firmly, "and I won't breathe a word to Abby, if that's what you're worried about."

"Don't you think this might be a bit awkward," began Sully, trying to frame the complete disarray of thoughts racing through his head into coherent sentences, "I mean we're friends and if we kiss…"

"Of course it will be awkward," replied Michaela quickly. "All first kisses are a bit awkward aren't they? I mean, you just got your mouth blown apart by Abby's extreme mouth wash. There's no way there could be anything romantic about that."

"True," conceded Sully with a grin, "my tongue's still recovering."

"So," pressed Michaela, folding her hands purposefully into her lap, "will you kiss me or not?"

"Ok, fine," relented Sully finally, with a slight laugh, "you win."

Michaela smiled widely as Sully shuffled closer to her on the sofa until their knees were touching. He felt cold to her touch, even through the blanket, and the crisp smell of night clung to his skin and clothes.

"Here goes nothing," he whispered and leaned in to brush her lips gently with his.

He drew back almost instantly and took a deep breath in.

"Michaela?" he called uncertainly, when she remained silent, watching him steadily. Finally, her lips curved into a smile.

"Very good," she said calmly, "a solid 8/10."

"Only 8?!" probed Sully teasingly.

"Yep," replied Michaela promptly, "not quite at the swoon worthy stage yet but I'm sure you'll get there with practice."

"Great," retorted Sully with a grin, before getting to his feet, "I'll see you in the morning then.

"By the way," he added, as he reached the doorway, "I did get you something for your birthday."

"You did?" exclaimed Michaela, rising up to peer excitedly at him over the top of the sofa, "what is it?"

"Me," he chuckled and ran for the stairs before the expertly catapulted sofa pillows could find their mark.


	18. Chapter 18

**December:**

"Come on….come on!" growled Michaela, viciously turning the key. The engine whined painfully before giving out completely. Michaela slammed the steering wheel in frustration before tipping her bag out on the passenger seat and rooting around for her cell phone.

"Please be at home," she willed as the line finally connected. Her heart sped up at the sound of the familiar voice and she instantly cut off his friendly greeting.

"Thank god, Sully, you've got to help me."

"What's up, are you ok?"

The concern in his voice was evident but she was desperately late; a cliff notes version would have to suffice.

"The car's bust and I don't know what's wrong. I have no idea where the nearest auto shop is and I'm supposed to be there in 20 minutes."

"Where are you?" queried Sully.

"The corner of Portland, just past the big coffee place."

"I'm googling it now," assured Sully, and Michaela caught the staccato clatter of his fingers on the laptop.

"Sully," moaned Michaela, as she glanced at the clock, "fifteen minutes. I can't be late!"

"Ok, ok, I've got one," replied Sully quickly, "I'll call them and tell them to come pick up the car. Just leave the keys behind the front wheel guard and get in a cab."

"I can't just leave the keys!" exclaimed Michaela, "what if someone steals the car?"

"No one is going to steal that pile of junk," laughed Sully, "trust me. Just go.

"And good luck!" he added but the line had already gone dead.

* * *

Stumbling slightly as she ran up the stairs, Michaela felt her chest contracting. Unable to stay in the cab as it crawled its way to the red lights, she had leapt out and pelted down the last block to the meeting rooms. Hurtling into the atrium, she caught sight of the various other candidates, each sporting a crimson badge and slowed her steps. Her muscles protested as she sucked in a deep breath, trying desperately to calm her racing heart as she approached the sign in desk. All too aware of her hair that had slipped out of its elegant knot and was now sticking unflatteringly to her sweaty face, she hastily pulled out the clip and let it cascade over her shoulders instead.

"Michaela Quinn," she began in what she hoped was a reasonably composed voice, swiping at her forehead, "I'm so sorry I'm late."

"Ah, Miss Quinn," replied the administrator as she checked her list, "how are you feeling?"

"Your uncle was good enough to telephone us," she explained kindly, as Michaela simply stared at her blankly.

"My uncle?" she queried uncertainly, "but I don't…"

"Yes, your uncle," continued the administrator, pulling out a welcome pack and handing it to Michaela, "he explained all about the accident and how you might be a bit late. He seemed quite concerned that you had hit your head quite hard and that you might be a little confused."

At this she turned to gaze sympathetically at Michaela who's features did indeed look plausibly puzzled.

"Sully," breathed Michaela as the pieces suddenly fell into place, before adding quickly, "I'm fine, thank you. It was nothing."

"Well, just take a seat over there then," smiled the young woman, pointing at a row of seats to her left, "they'll call you in shortly."


	19. Chapter 19

**June:**

Sully pulled at his tie, loosening it further before reaching over to the glove compartment. It sprang open at his light touch, barely hanging onto the worn out hinges. Despite all the hours of work he and Matthew had put in to get the thing working, the car was still a wreck and he knew it. With a sigh, Sully fumbled to extract the plastic box he had wedged in there earlier. A small strip of white card caught his eye as he pulled the box free. It had clearly fallen out when he had opened the hatch and gleamed in the darkness. Frowning, Sully reached down and picked it up off the mat. His eyes lit up as he recognised the cramped, red print.

Michaela had bought the tickets as an early birthday present and had gifted them to him before she had left again for Boston. Naturally, he'd asked Abby to go with him but she had pleaded off; a rock concert wasn't really her scene. So he'd rung the company and changed the dates to Christmas break. Michaela had flown out to Denver to meet him and they'd gone together. With a grin, Sully recalled her exuberant response when he had called to tell her what he'd done. She was the only girl he knew who was crazy enough to fly a thousand miles to see a band she'd never heard of in a ramshackle excuse for a club. The music, however, had been intoxicating and well worth the wait. Sully had joked afterwards that his car's stereo had never quite recovered from the onslaught it had received at Michaela's hands during the two hour drive back to Colorado Springs.

An insistent buzzing broke into his thoughts and patting his jacket pockets, Sully hastily located his phone and whipped it out. He scanned the message and groaned inwardly as he registered the time. Shoving the ticket stub into the empty ash tray, he flipped open the lid of the box nestled on his lap. He had successfully convinced himself that the reason he had bought two flowers was simple; Abby hadn't decided on her dress yet and he wanted to have a backup in case the one he picked didn't quite match. Yet as his glance drifted between the simple, red rose and the opulent, white orchid, he knew that he'd never really had a choice.

* * *

Michaela stood with her back against the wall, vaguely watching her classmates celebrate around her and wishing herself a million miles away. She had never really wanted to come anyway. It was Becky that had talked her in to it. Seemingly deaf to Michaela's plethora of excuses, including the sad fact that she didn't have a date, Becky had coaxed her into shopping for a dress, had helped tame her unruly hair into an elegant pleat and even loaned her the beautiful, diamond earrings that brushed against her jaw as she swayed gently in time to the music.

The booming voice of the DJ suddenly broke out over the clamour of the crowd and Michaela, startled out of her trance, glanced up in time to see couples pairing off around her. Tears pricked unexpectedly at her eyes and suddenly furious with herself and the whole ridiculous institution of the prom, Michaela took a deep breath and started for the exit. A hand caught her bare arm and startled, she turned as the familiar voice queried, "Where are you going?"

"Sully?" she exclaimed, her eyes widening in disbelief, "what are you doing here?"

"I'm here for the prom," grinned Sully, "sorry I'm late. Wanna dance?"

"Prom?" repeated Michaela slowly, her thoughts unmanageable, "but… how did you know…I mean, I don't understand."

"Becky tipped me off that you didn't have a date and that you were going to chicken out of going alone," chuckled Sully, "guess she doesn't know you like I do."

"I can't believe you're here," breathed Michaela, a broad smile pulling at her lips.

"Wouldn't have missed it," replied Sully, reaching into his pocket to pull out the slightly crumpled corsage and slipping it easily onto her wrist. The red petals flashed like rubies against the elegant, black lace of her dress and Michaela flexed her wrist in wonder.

"Wait a minute," she considered after a moment's silence, a frown furrowing her brow, "what about your prom?"

"It was last night," explained Sully lightly, "I left early. Caught the first flight out of Denver this morning.

"I was so afraid I wouldn't make it," he continued jokingly, "I didn't even have time to change my suit."

"You left early?" queried Michaela, her eyes alight with curiosity, "but what about Abby? Weren't you going together?"

"I broke it off" replied Sully blandly, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"I'm sorry," whispered Michaela, reaching out to take his hand.

"Don't be," assured Sully, glancing up with a slight smile, "I'm not. Abby's sweet and she'll be a great girlfriend, to someone else. I couldn't go to college still dating her. It wouldn't be fair."

"College?"

Michaela's eyes snapped up to his, all traces of sympathy vanishing as her gaze burned into his. Sully had been resolutely dodging her questions over the last few months about which colleges he'd applied to. He had consistently changed the subject whenever she had sought to discuss his options and had flat out refused to pore over the maps she had amassed that highlighted the various cities within commutable distance to Harvard. Although he had joined in her exuberance at her own admission to Harvard in May, he had never reciprocated with news of any acceptances and Michaela had grown disheartened. Eventually, she had simply stopped asking.

"Sully?" she repeated steadily, her heart racing in her chest.

"I didn't think you'd believe me if I didn't bring this with me," continued Sully, the laughter dancing deep in his eyes. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a folded sheet of paper and held it out expectantly. Michaela fairly snatched it from his fingers and flipped it open, her eyes impatiently scanning the letter head.

Several couples looked up in alarm as her cry broke out over the crooning ballad issuing from the expensive sound system.

Michaela however, was completely oblivious to the disapproving glares cast in her direction as she flung herself at Sully and buried her face in his shoulder.

"I take it you're happy about this," teased Sully, as he gently returned her fierce embrace.

"Harvard, Sully!" she exclaimed in his ear, before pushing back from him, sheer delight illuminating her features, "why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I wasn't sure I'd get in," chuckled Sully, "I didn't want you getting your hopes up."

"Of course you'd get in, you're the smartest person I know," broke in Michaela breathlessly but Sully merely shook his head and grinned.

"I couldn't have you going off to college without me," he finished, "so I decided to come along for the ride. Hope that's ok?"

"More than ok," laughed Michaela, wrapping her arms fervently again around her best friend and ignoring his mock sounds of pain. "Now, everything is perfect."


End file.
